re  BAGDAD 


WITH 


rHEBRITISH 


(«^ETHUR  TILLOTSON  CLARK 


TO  BAGDAD 
WITH  THE  BRITISH 


Turkish  troops  prisoners  in  J^agdad 


TO    BAGDAD 
WITH   THE    BRITISH 


BY 

ARTHUR  TILLOTSON  CLARK 


ILLUSTRATED 


D.  APPLETON  AND  COMPANY 

NEW  YORK  LONDON 

191S 


COPTBIGHT,  1918,  BY 

D.  APPLETON  AND  COMPANY 


Printed  in  the  United  States  of  America 


TO 
MY  MOTHER 


377579 


FOREWORD 

The  author  of  this  work,  Mr.  Arthur  T.  Clark,  is  a 
member  of  Princeton  University  of  the  Class  of  1918. 
In  the  midst  of  his  college  course  he  gave  up  his  work 
to  enlist  as  a  member  of  the  Young  Men's  Christian  As- 
sociation, going  to  the  most  difficult  of  all  fields  in  the 
world,  that  of  Mesopotamia.  This  volume  is  a  record  of 
his  experiences  there  in  the  midst  of  the  stirring  war 
scenes  of  the  campaign  which  resulted  successfully  in 
the  capture  of  Bagdad. 

Mr.  Clark's  account  is  based  upon  an  intimate  knowl- 
edge of  the  events  which  he  personally  observed  and  of 
which  he  was  a  part.  This  gives  us  an  excellent  idea 
of  a  chapter  in  the  world's  war  which  is  little  known 
and  yet  which  has  unique  significance.  The  capture  of 
Bagdad  places  an  insurmountable  obstacle  in  the  way  of 
the  German  realization  of  their  Hamburg-Persian  Gulf 
ambition.  It  is  well  for  us  all  to  know  something  of  the 
particular  events  whose  significance  will  be  more  and 
more  appreciated  as  time  goes  on  and  as  the  insolent 
ambitions  of  Germany  are  more  and  more  clearly  re- 
vealed. 

The  author  of  this  book  is  now  a  member  of  the  United 
States  Aviation  Corps  and  I  am  sure  will  give  his  serv- 
ices as  conscientiously  and  valiantly  to  the  army  of 
his  own  country  as  at  the  beginning  of  the  war  he  gave 
his  best  efforts  in  the  Y.  M.  C.  A.  service  of  our  great 

ally. 

John  Grieb  Hibben, 
President  of  Princeton  University. 


CONTENTS 

OHAPTEB  PAQB 

I.    Preparing  the  Play,  ^'On  to  Bagdad'' — 
England  in  the  Persian  Gulf  and  the 

German-Bagdad  Railway       ...  1 

II.     The  Tragedy — Act  I,  Part  1 — Brilliant 

Success 26 

III.  The  Tragedy — Act  I,  Part  2 — The  Ad- 

vance Toward  Bagdad     ....  45 

IV.  The  Tragedy — Act  II — The  Disaster        .  65 
V.    Writing  a  New  Play — **0n  to  Bagdad"  86 

VI.    The  New  Show — Act  I — Getting  Ready  109 

VII.    A  New  Plunge  for  Kut — Act  II        .        .  132 

VIII.    Act  III — Serious  Fighting        .        .        .  152 

IX.    Act  IV — The  Rout  of  the  Turks — First 

Phase 170 

X.    Act  V — The  Rout  of  the  Turks — Second 

Phase 189 

XI.    Bagdad,  The  British  Prize        .        .        .  205 

XII.     Tommy  in  Bagdad 224 

XIII.  From  Turkish  to  British          .        .        .  239 

XIV.  Behind  the  Scenes— The  Y.  M.  C.  A.        .  259 

XV.    Persons  of  the  Play         ....  279 

ix 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 

Turkish  troops  prisoners  in  Bagdad  .      .      Frontispiece 

FACING 
PAGE 

The  highway  of  Busra,  the  ** Venice  of  the  East''  34 

Arab  huts  on  the  bank  of  the  Tigris  ....  34 

One  of  Bagdad's  beautiful  Mosques    ....  64 

The  arch  of  Ctesiphon 64 

A  bend  in  the  long  covered  bazaar  which  runs 

through  Bagdad 138 

Turkish  river  mines  which  failed  to  halt  the  Brit- 
ish advance 138 

Old  mud  wells  of  the  Arabs  on  the  Tigris  near 

Bagdad 174 

A  fire  trench  in  the  British  trenches  at  Sanniyat  174 

British  troops  moving  through  a  Bagdad  street    .  200 

Indian  troops  entering  Bagdad  through  a  heavy 

dust  storm          200 

!When  British  and  Russian  forces  came  together 

in  Bagdad 258 

xi 


xii  LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 

FACING 
FA  OB 

Tommies    interested    in    the    telegraphic    report, 
"America  declares  war" 258 

Bazaar  Chiefs,  the  commercial  geniuses  of  Meso- 
potamia             ....    278 

The  author,  as  guest  of  the  Royal  Flying  Corps, 
beginning  early  to  learn  to  fly  for  Uncle  Sam    278 


LIST  OF  MAPS 

PAQB 

I.  Eoute  of  the  German  Bagdad  Bailway,  de- 
signed to  realize  the  ambitions  of  Ger- 
many for  World  Empire;  showing  the 
important  position  of  Bagdad,  Mesopo- 
tamia and  the  Persian  Gulf  as  obstacles 
in  the  way  of  the  Kaiser's  schemes    .      .        9 

II.    The  stage  for  the  Mesopotamia  **show''     .      39 

III.  The  country  and  the  river  bends  over  which 

the   British    fought    their   way   to    and 
around  Kut 135 

IV.  The  British  city  of  Bagdad 202 


TO  BAGDAD  WITH  THE 
BRITISH 


CHAPTER  I 

PREPARING  FOR  THE  PLAY  "ON  TO  BAGDAD"— 
ENGLAND  IN  THE  PERSIAN  GULF  AND  THE  GER- 
MAN-BAGDAD RAILWAY 

In  the  Great  War  Mesopotamia  is  a  ''side 
show. ' '  Its  importance  is  not  to  be  compared  with 
that  of  the  western  front.  The  fact  that  the  war 
must  be  won  in  France  is  brought  home  to  us 
every  day.  No  matter  what  may  happen  to  the 
front  in  Roumania,  in  Italy,  in  Egypt,  in  Mesopo- 
tamia, the  French  front  holds  the  key  to  the  end 
of  the  war  and  our  final  victory.  But  there  are 
points  of  view  from  which  even  side  shows  are 
important. 

The  war  in  France  has  been  characterized  over 
and  over  again  as  *'a  grim  business. '*  Such  it 
certainly  is.    For  one  who  is  in  it  continually,  it 

1 


2       TO  BAGDAD  WITH  THE  BRITISH 

becomes  more  than  a  grim  business.  It  becomes  a 
nerve-racking,  monotonous  business.  There  are 
plenty  of  side  lights  that  brighten  up  the  thing  in 
spots  for  certain  people,  but  the  whole  war  as  a 
war  is  a  great  exhibition  of  strength,  of  capacity, 
of  grim  determination. 

If  we  would  get  away  from  war  as  it  is  in 
France  and  still  feel  in  close  touch  with  the  Great 
War,  we  could  do  better  than  catch  a  glimpse  of 
the  side  show  in  Mesopotamia.  There  we  can  get 
into  the  atmosphere  of  melodrama,  of  romance,  of 
imagination.  For  the  side  show  there  was  **0n 
to  Bagdad"  and  has  proved  that  in  the  right  place 
war  even  to-day  can  be  a  romance. 

As  one  of  the  surging  crowds  that  have  gone  to 
fairs,  from  county  fairs  to  world  fairs,  I  have 
always  been  carried  away,  with  the  rest,  by  the 
exhibition  of  the  triumphs  of  genius,  of  force,  of 
endurance  that  man  has  won  in  every  phase  of 
life.  I  have  entered  the  exhibition  grounds  with 
a  sense  of  awe,  and  have  left  them  with  a  greater 
respect  for  my  fellow  men  and  a  greater  faith  for 
the  future.  But  I  have  always,  somehow,  wan- 
dered into  the  side  shows  that  grow  up  near  the 


PEEPARING  FOR  THE  PLAY  3 

grounds,  where  a  tired  fair-goer  may  pass  a  re- 
freshing hour  watching  a  magician,  or  a  melo- 
drama staged  by  a  company  of  traveling  players. 
The  bare  feats  of  strength  and  of  brains  at  which 
I  marveled  so,  were  in  themselves  too  prosaic  and 
I  sought  the  human  touch. 

It  was  my  good  fortune — ^before  America  came 
into  the  war  and  while  the  grim  business  of  war 
was  still  something  of  which  we  knew  little  and 
felt  less — to  go  to  the  war  in  Mesopotamia. 

In  America  we  were  still  blissfully  ignorant  of 
all  the  ambition  of  Germany  and  of  all  that  war 
means.  For  us  students  at  Princeton,  life  was 
going  on  as  happily  and  peacefully  as  ever,  when 
the  call  came  for  men  to  go  with  the  British  troops 
to  Mesopotamia,  **  where  there  is  the  most  atro- 
cious climate  in  the  world  and  where  there  are 
more  insects  and  germs  to  the  square  inch  than 
there  are  bullets  to  the  square  mile.''  That  was 
the  way  it  sounded.  Needless  to  say,  those  who 
told  us  the  discouraging  tales  of  the  country  had 
an  insight  into  the  fancies  of  college  men.  Promise 
them  adventure  even  in  the  worst  place  in  the 
world  and  they  will  risk  their  necks.    In  this  case 


4       TO  BAGDAD  WITH  THE  BRITISH 

there  was  more  still,  tlie  chance  to  give  a  hand. 
After  much  confabbing  and  deciding,  five  of  us 
found  ourselves  on  a  transatlantic  steamer  bound 
for — that  we  did  not  know.  If  we  could  believe  the 
** Arabian  Nights''  we  were  certainly  on  a  curious 
expedition.  Think  of  going  to  Bagdad  or  to  one 
of  the  wonder-lands  of  Sindhad  the  Sailor! 

We  sped  across  the  Atlantic,  through  the 
danger  zone,  to  the  beautiful  country  of  France, 
rent  asunder  by  war.  Just  a  week  there  was 
enough  to  teach  us  the  awful  lessons  of  war.  Then 
on,  dodging  submarines  continually,  we  sailed 
through  the  blue  and  white  Mediterranean.  War- 
ships and  transports  signaled  to  us  as  we  passed. 
Next  we  glided  slowly  through  the  Suez  Canal, 
where  the  vassals  of  Germany  were  trying  to 
break  through  to  cut  off  that  route  to  India.  The 
banks  of  the  canal  were  covered  thick  with  troops, 
Indian,  Egyptian,  and  English,  and  the  Turks 
were  near  by.  Not  many  days  before,  they  had 
made  a  desperate  charge  on  the  canal  and  had 
even  launched  a  boat  before  they  were  driven 
back.  Next  we  sizzled  through  the  Red  Sea  and 
stopped  at  its  end  at  Aden.   Just  behind  that  town 


PEEPAEING  FOR  THE  PLAY  5 

of  exile,  too,  the  Turks  were  stirring  up  trouble. 
We  were  half  way  around  the  world  and  still  there 
was  war.  We  began  to  realize  that  this  truly  was 
a  World  War.  Driven  on  by  the  monsoon  we 
reached  India,  and  there,  in  the  beautiful  harbor 
of  Bombay,  were  freighters  with  munitions  and 
supplies,  transports  with  troops,  and  hospital 
boats  with  wounded  and  sick.  We  heard  that  a 
steamer  had  just  been  sunk  by  a  German  mine  not 
far  from  the  coast.  In  India  we  found  troop 
trains  rushing  troops  up  through  the  country  to 
the  northwest  frontier  to  fight  the  tribes  of 
Afghans,  and  to  the  interior  to  put  down  the 
trouble  that  Germans  were  trying  to  stir  up  in 
India  itself.  Surely  the  war  was  everywhere. 
And  we  were  yet  to  go  to  the  land  of  fairy  stories. 
Finally  we  arrived  even  there,  sailing  up  through 
the  Persian  Gulf  to  Busra,  Sindbad's  port. 

From  there,  as  a  sort  of  stage  hand,  it  was  my 
privilege  to  watch  closely  some  of  the  acts  of  the 
splendid  side  show,  **0n  to  Bagdad, '^  to  follow 
the  armies  of  Great  Britain  up  through  the  most 
interesting  of  all  countries,  to  move  up  the  wind- 
ing Tigris  past  the  remains  of  the  glories  of  the 


6       TO  BAGDAD  WITH  THE  BRITISH 

Chaldeans,  of  the  Babylonians,  of  the  Persians, 
of  the  ancient  Greeks,  and  of  the  great  Arabian 
Kaliphs,  to  the  wonderful  city  of  Bagdad. 

We  hardly  realize  how  closely  connected  the 
World  War  is,  from  end  to  end  of  the  earth. 
Away  out  there  at  the  other  side  of  the  globe  a 
big  part  of  the  Great  War  has  been  fought  and 
won.  No  one  can  tell  how  many  more  of  the  wide 
plans  of  the  Kaiser  might  now  be  carried  out  if 
the  little  British  wedge  in  the  Persian  Gulf  had 
not  been  in  the  way  to  hold  so  many  of  the  troops 
of  Germany's  vassals  in  Mesopotamia.  No  one 
can  tell  how  real  might  have  become  the  Kaiser's 
boast  of  control  of  India,  Egypt  and  the  rest  of 
Africa.  ^' Drang  nach  0  est  en''  lay  beneath  the 
war  in  Mesopotamia.  The  key  to  the  hoped-for 
world  supremacy  for  Germany  lay  in  her  control 
of  the  highway  of  Asia  Minor,  Palestine  and 
Mesopotamia,  the  great  highway  to  the  East. 
Mesopotamia,  which  in  the  days  of  Babylon  sup- 
ported ten  million  people,  again  rose  to  impor- 
tance in  the  affairs  of  the  world. 

Back  in  1914,  as  the  war  was  approaching,  over 
72,000  laborers  were  working  on  the  Berlin-Bag- 


PEEPAEING  FOR  THE  PLAY  7 

dad  Railway,  trying  to  shove  it  through  the  Tau- 
rus mountains  and  get  it  in  shape  so  that  it  could 
carry  Pan-German  troops  over  to  the  Persian 
frontier  and  give  a  chance  for  the  drive  on  India, 
the  first  step  in  the  conquest  of  the  Far  East. 
At  the  same  time  the  railways  in  Palestine  were 
getting  ready  to  rush  other  Pan-German  troops 
down  from  Asia  Minor  to  block  the  Suez  Canal, 
that  most  important  route  to  India  and  the  Far 
East  from  the  Mediterranean. 

Mesopotamia,  lying  right  between  Palestine  and 
Persia,  was  the  key  position.  For  England  to 
hold  the  troops  of  the  enemy  there  would  mean 
relief  both  in  Persia  and  in  Palestine,  and  safety 
for  India  and  Egypt.  It  might  mean  the  salvation 
of  the  entire  Far  East.  Now,  in  1918,  when  both 
Bagdad  and  Jerusalem  are  under  British  pro- 
tection, we  have  a  glimpse  of  the  real  importance 
of  the  war  in  Mesopotamia,  for  the  campaigns  in 
Mesopotamia  and  Palestine  have  worked  together 
to  block  the  deep-laid  plans  of  the  Huns.  They 
are  far  from  Egypt  and  far  from  India* 

Emperor  William,  soon  after  his  accession  to 
the  German  throne,  proclaimed  himself  Defender 


8       TO  BAGDAD  WITH  THE  BRITISH 

of  Islam,  the  Mohammedan  world;  became  the 
guardian  of  the  Turkish  throne ;  and,  on  the  most 
shady  of  premises,  started  the  Berlin-Bagdad 
Railway.  These  three  facts  spelled  one  thing — 
expansion  eastward.  They  meant  that  Egypt  and 
India  would  before  long  feel  the  pressure  of  Ger- 
man intrigue;  that  either  by  stealth  or  by  force 
Germany  would  some  day  seize  them  both.  With 
her  railways,  her  Mohammedan  vassals  and  her 
trade,  she  was  well  on  the  way — and  then  came 
the  war,  and  with  it  a  little  British  force  from 
India  on  an  island  of  the  Persian  Gulf,  at  the 
entrance  of  Mesopotamia. 

Strange  that  into  that  decayed,  historic,  mys- 
terious country  should  come  a  great  war,  fought 
by  great  modem  armies !  Strange,  too,  how  it  all 
came  about  1 

The  ** Arabian  Nights"  tells  the  tales  of  the 
wonderful  trips  of  Sindbad  the  Sailor  between 
Bagdad  and  the  cities  of  India,  of  his  journey  on  a 
raft  through  a  mountain  to  the  domains  of  the 
King  of  the  Indies  and  his  return,  with  presents 
to  Haroim-al-RascJiid,  his  lord  in  Bagdad.  There 
are  many  reasons  for  believing  that  Sindbad  was 


10     TO  BAGDAD  WITH  THE  BRITISH 

a  real  person.  Certainly  his  occupation  was  a 
real  one,  for  when  India  became  a  colony  of  Eng- 
land, one  of  the  first  steps  of  the  new  government 
was  to  encourage  and  protect  trade  between  her 
new  charge  and  the  renowned  city  of  Bagdad. 

Away  back  in  the  days  when  the  first  New 
England  colonies  were  just  starting,  a  British 
force  was  fighting  the  Portuguese  in  the  Persian 
Gulf.  That  was  the  beginning.  Not  many  months 
ago  a  British  force  entered  Bagdad. 

About  half  a  century  after  England's  arrival  in 
the  gulf,  Turkey  moved  her  border  down  through 
Mesopotamia  to  the  top  of  the  Persian  Gulf. 
There  was  no  opposition  to  this.  One  look  at  the 
country  was  enough  to  bring  the  British  sailors 
in  the  gulf  to  the  conclusion  that  Mesopotamia 
was  a  place  for  Turks,  or  for  wandering  Arabs, 
not  for  them. 

England's  task  was  to  get  rid  of  the  hostile 
powers  in  the  gulf  and  to  keep  peace  there,  that 
there  might  be  trade  between  India  and  Persia 
and  Bagdad.  Little  did  it  matter  who  owned 
Mesopotamia.  No  one  saw  ahead  two  hundred 
years  to  the  ambitions  of  a  Pan-German  monarch. 


PEEPAEINa  FOR  THE  PLAY  11 

In  1622,  by  a  treaty  with  the  Shah  of  Persia,  Eng- 
land took  up  the  burden  of  keeping  men-of-war 
in  the  Persian  Gulf.  Persia,  with  its  soil  rich  in 
mineral  deposits,  its  great  endless  plateaus  and  its 
high  natural  sea  wall  on  the  east  side  of  the 
Persian  Gulf,  gained  through  British  ousting  of 
Portuguese  and  Dutch,  her  only  harbor  and  out- 
let to  the  world.  To  the  west  of  the  gulf  lay 
Arabia,  the  home  of  countless  wandering  tribes, 
neither  governing  nor  governed.  Above  the  gulf, 
between  these  two  countries — ^no  one  knows  just 
where  the  borders  are — lay  Mesopotamia,  the  land 
*^ between  the  rivers.''  As  time  went  on  there 
still  arose  no  occasion  for  England  to  be  inter- 
ested in  the  future  of  that  blighted  country.  The 
right  of  trade  through  it  was  important,  but  that 
country  which  controlled  the  Persian  Gulf  con- 
trolled the  important  part,  the  trade  route  be- 
tween the  Tigris  and  the  rest  of  the  world.  All 
the  rest  of  Turkey  faced  the  Bosphorus,  but  Meso- 
potamia faced  south. 

The  British  men-of-war  and  the  British  flag 
became  more  and  more  objects  of  respect  both  to 
Persians  and  to  Arabs.     There  is  no  cause  to 


12     TO  BAGDAD  WITH  THE  BRITISH 

question  England's  right  to  what  she  had.  It  was 
not  land,  it  was  influence.  It  was  the  British 
policy  of  give  and  take.  She  gave  Persia  her  sea- 
board ;  she  made  trade  safer ;  she  claimed  in  return 
for  her  work  not  land  but  the  right  to  police  the 
gulf  in  every  nook  and  comer.  She  could  have 
claimed  this  right,  and  more,  as  conqueror  of  the 
Portuguese  and  the  Dutch,  yet  she  asked  it  in 
return  for  a  service.  She  paid  for  the  *' wedge'' 
in  the  gulf  with  men,  with  ships  and  with  patient 
labor.  And  policing  was  no  joke.  Barbary  pirates 
were  polished  gentlemen  in  comparison  with 
the  wily  Arabs  who  infested  the  gulf  waters  and 
the  waters  just  outside,  along  the  coast  of  Baluchi- 
stan and  India.  If  the  Arabian  coast  had  been  de- 
signed specially  for  the  pirates'  purpose,  it  could 
not  have  been  better  made.  All  along  the  coast 
lagoons,  natural  breakwaters  in  front  of  sheltered 
harbors,  were  secluded  hiding  places  where  the 
pirate  boats  could  rest  unnoticed  till  the  time 
should  come  for  a  sally.  It  was  a  wild  and  excit- 
ing life  that  these  fellows  led.  Hardy  as  the  Vik- 
ing explorers,  they  braved,  not  the  icy  storms  of 
the  north  sea,  but  the  parching  blasts   of  the 


PEEPARINa  FOR  THE  PLAY  13 

Arabian  wind  and  the  cruel  rays  of  the  desert  sun. 
On  a  day  I  spent  in  the  gulf  not  long  ago,  during 
the  twelve  day-hours  from  six  to  six,  the  shade 
temperature  never  got  below  100  degrees  and  rose 
to  121.  We  must  give  credit  to  the  men  who 
manned  the  British  patrol  in  the  gulf  during  all 
seasons,  wet,  dry,  chilly,  and  blazing  hot.  But  in 
spite  of  their  efforts  the  piracy  became  greater 
and  greater.  It  was  discouraging — but  for  the 
sake  of  her  trade  and  of  order  England  kept  up 
the  good  fight.  The  Arabs,  oppressed  by  the 
Turks  on  two  sides,  from  Egypt  and  from  Meso- 
potamia, were  becoming  more  organized.  One 
tribe,  the  Wahabis,  proved  itself  master,  and  the 
Arabs,  coming  together  under  their  leadership, 
could  cease  fighting  among  themselves  on  land 
and  spend  their  time  in  plundering  people  of  other 
races  and  nations  on  the  sea. 

During  the  years  of  our  War  of  Independence 
and  the  French  Revolution,  while  so  much  of 
world  importance  was  happening  in  Europe  and 
America,  there  were  British  men-of-war  putting 
down  piracy  in  this  mysterious  part  of  the  world, 
the  Persian  Gulf.    On  into  the  nineteenth  century 


14     TO  BAGDAD  WITH  THE  BRITISH 

they  fought  it,  but  still  it  continued  and  increased. 
It  finally  developed  into  more  than  piracy,  into 
absolute  warfare.  A  great  fleet  of  pirate  vessels, 
with  their  cut-throat  pirates  seven  thousand 
strong,  set  out  to  ravage  not  only  the  sea  but  the 
coasts.  At  this  most  startling  turn  of  affairs  a 
large  force  of  British  troops  went  to  the  gulf. 
To-day,  on  the  colors  of  that  force,  is  blazoned  the 
word  ** Arabia"  for  that  tussle  with  the  Arab 
pirates.  Tommies  were  policemen  then.  Another 
century  and  the  shores  of  Arabia  would  see  them 
as  soldiers  in  the  Great  War. 

Aggressive  measures,  thus  begun,  gradually  put 
an  end  to  the  whole  business,  and  treaties  between 
England  and  the  Arab  chiefs  not  only  put  a  stop 
to  the  piracy,  but  gave  England  the  official  status 
of  protector  of  the  Persian  Gulf,  with  rights  in  the 
disposal  of  the  lands  on  its  coasts.  Thus,  finally, 
a  quarter  of  a  century  before  the  Great  War 
began,  England's  constant  guardianship  of  the 
Persian  Gulf  for  more  than  two  hundred  years,  to 
the  great  benefit  of  both  Arabia  and  Persia,  was 
officially  as  well  as  unofficially  rewarded.  Her 
** wedge"  in  the  gulf  was  a  respected  fact. 


PEEPARINO  FOE  THE  PLAY  15 

But  where  was  Turkey  all  this  time?  Turkey 
had  not  thought  far  ahead  either.  To  her  the 
lower  Mesopotamia  region  was  not  worth  a  great 
deal  of  bother.  She  could  collect  taxes  from  the 
native  inhabitants  only  as  far  as  her  guns  could 
reach  to  conquer  the  Arab  tribes ;  and  the  possible 
taxes,  except  from  the  date  trees,  were  not  worth 
a  great  deal  of  sacrifice.  Turkey's  ** squeeze" 
method  of  government  was  of  little  use  where 
there  was  little  to  be  squeezed.  On  the  routes  of 
the  big  Mohammedan  pilgrimages  the  system  was 
profitable  enough,  for  the  officials  could  block  the 
roads  to  the  sacred  shrines  and  take  away  what- 
ever money  the  travelers  had — if  the  Arab  high- 
waymen on  the  road  had  left  them  any.  But  the 
possible  tolls  were  slight  near  the  Persian  Gulf. 
There  has  always  been  a  close  race  between  the 
Turkish  officials  and  the  Arab  highwaymen,  and  in 
many  cases  the  officials,  by  putting  their  posts  far 
enough  ahead  along  the  roads,  have  beaten  out  the 
Arabs.  It  is  a  good  illustration  of  the  German 
philosophy  of  the  survival  of  the  fittest. 

One  of  the  Turkish  governors  was  so  indifferent 
to  Mesopotamia  south  of  Bagdad  that  he  was  will- 


16     TO  BAGDAD  WITH  THE  BRITISH 

ing  England  should  take  it  off  his  hands,  if  she 
would.  But  England  refused.  If  she  could  only- 
have  pictured  the  Kaiser  of  a  few  years  later! 
Perhaps  the  British  wedge  would  have  reached 
up  to  Bagdad. 

But  the  chance  was  gone.  The  moves  of  Turkey 
and  Germany,  with  ideas  of  greater  depth  than 
anyone  imagined,  were  about  to  commence.  A  few 
years  after  the  first  great  treaty  between  the  Brit- 
ish and  the  Arab  chiefs,  the  new  Yali  of  Bagdad, 
the  Turkish  governor  of  the  District,  marched  a 
good-sized  army  through  Mesopotamia  and 
started  after  the  Arabian  towns  on  the  shore  of 
the  Persian  Gulf.  England  was  overlord  of  the 
gulf  and  hers  was  the  power  of  disposal  of  lands 
on  the  Arabian  and  Persian  shores.  But  she  ob- 
jected little  to  this  extension  of  Turkey's  realm. 
It  seemed  unimportant,  in  view  of  the  fact  that  the 
Arabs  would  not  acknowledge  Turkish  overlord- 
ship  except  with  Turkish  guns  under  their  noses. 
But  attempts  at  expansion  which  followed  were 
fought  a  little  more  strenuously,  though  even  then 
there  appeared  to  be  no  great  international  prob- 
lems at  stake. 


* 
% 


PEEPARING  FOR  THE  PLAY  17 

With  the  accession  of  William  II  to  the  German 
throne  a  new  light  appeared  on  the  situation.  Out 
of  a  most  casual  difference  between  Turkey  and 
England  developed  a  colossal  struggle.  If  the 
British  were  not  interested  in  Mesopotamia,  the 
Kaiser  was.  A  route  through  Mesopotamia  to  the 
Persian  Gulf  would  be  a  quick  way  of  getting  to 
India  and  would  give  a  chance  to  rush  something 
serious  down  that  way  in  a  very  short  time.  The 
great  **open  highway"  across  the  country  to  the 
east  would  be  a  fact.  It  would  balance  England's 
advantage  in  the  Suez  Canal.  The  Pan-German 
plan  was  just  getting  under  way.  Slowly  but 
surely  the  time  was  coming  when  the  little  Brit- 
ish wedge  in  the  Persian  Gulf  should  become  the 
great  kink  in  the  Pan-German  plan  for  world 
conquest. 

With  the  visit  of  the  Emperor  to  Constantinople 
in  1889  began  the  war  against  the  British  in  Meso- 
potamia. For  years  it  had  been  concealed ;  now  it 
was  in  the  open,  but  fruitless. 

The  plans  of  the  Kaiser  were  deep.  England 
was  in  a  little  difficulty  with  Turkey  over  the  war 
in  Egypt,  relations  between  the  two  countries 


18     TO  BAGDAD  WITH  THE  BRITISH 

were  not  too  good  in  the  Persian  Gulf,  and  the 
Sultan  was  quite  ready  to  ally  himself,  or  sell  him- 
self, to  Germany  for  the  rich  rewards  which  would 
come  from  the  Kaiser's  schemes.  As  Defender  of 
Islam  and  protector  of  the  Turkish  throne,  Em- 
peror William  was  master  of  Turkey.  Turkey 
needed  cultivation,  especially  the  part  of  Turkey 
known  as  Mesopotamia.  A  railway  through  there 
would  do  wonders.  It  would  also  be  a  boon  to 
India.  The  slogan,  **  Hamburg  to  the  Persian 
Gulf,''  grew  in  popularity  as  the  realization  came 
of  the  true  purpose — **  Berlin  to  Bombay  and 
Cairo. ' '  The  Kaiser  had  no  more  idea  of  cultivat- 
ing Mesopotamia  than  he  had  of  cultivating 
mumps.  Two  of  his  spokesmen  belied  any  state- 
ment he  might  make  concerning  that :  ^ '  Germany 
has  no  resources  in  men  for  opening  the  Islamic 
world,"  and  *^ Turkey  can  never  raise  enough 
settlers."  Nor  had  he  thought  out  any  plan  for 
the  cooperative  control  of  a  railway  between 
Europe  and  British  India  that  would  attempt  to 
be  fair  to  all  nations.  But  he  did  have  a  very 
definite  idea  that  with  an  army  on  rails  at  its 
back,  a  stronghold  at  the  head  of  the  Persian  Gulf 


PEEPAEING  FOE  THE  PLAY  19 

would  be  a  great  base  of  operations  toward  the 
east.  His  submarines  could  renew  all  the  piracy 
of  the  Arabs,  and  on  a  much  larger  scale. 

The  affair  begaa  modestly  enough.  The  obscure 
individual  who  went  to  set  up  a  small  pearl  busi- 
ness in  the  Persian  Gulf  raised  very  little  stir, 
even  though  he  was  a  German.  But  a  few  years 
later  came  the  startling  news  that  Germany  had 
obtained  a  concession  to  build  a  railway  from 
*^Konia  to  the  Persian  Gulf,"  1,870  miles  from 
Constantinople.  It  would  indeed  be  a  fine  thing  to 
have  another  railway  through  Asia,  and  especially 
in  this  part.  Asia  has  few  enough  railways  as 
it  is. 

But  there  was  certainly  something  queer  about 
the  plans  of  the  aforesaid  concession.  It  was  cu- 
rious that,  if  the  railway  were  for  commercial 
reasons,  the  proposed  route  across  should  care- 
fully leave  out  all  the  regions  which  gave  promise 
of  betQg  agricultural  districts  and  go  by  the  short- 
est possible  route  across  the  barest  desert.  Cu- 
rious, too,  that  any  bank  should  advance  money  in 
such  an  enterprise  unless  said  bank  had  the  sanc- 
tion of  a  great  government  to  back  it  up.    Accord- 


20     TO  BAGDAD  WITH  THE  BRITISH 

ing  to  the  plans  a  German  bank  was  to  furnish  the 
funds.  The  Turkish  government  was  to  pay  back 
the  money  with  interest  and  also  to  pay  a  guar- 
anty on  the  cost  of  construction  at  the  rate  of 
700  pounds  per  year  per  kilometer.  Considering 
the  fact  that  Turkey  was  at  the  time  bankrupt  and 
that  the  Sultan  would  have  no  means  of  paying  the 
guaranty  alone,  not  to  mention  the  original  funds 
with  interest,  it  seemed  as  though  there  must  be 
something  bigger  than  a  railway  scheme  behind  it. 
Indeed  there  was.  Germany  was  going  to  see  to  it 
that  no  matter  what  might  happen  in  the  West,  the 
East  would  ultimately  decide  supremacy.  The  old 
wars  of  the  ages,  from  the  beginning  of  empires, 
over  control  of  the  East,  was  to  culminate,  accord- 
ing to  the  wishes  of  Germany,  in  conquest  for  the 
Teutons. 

It  was  hoped  by  Germany  that  the  duty  charges 
on  goods  sent  over  the  line  would  in  time  bring 
into  the  Turkish  treasury  from  England,  which 
was  the  chief  trader  with  the  East,  enough  to  pay 
for  the  liae.  But  in  the  meantime  Germany  would 
become  possessor  of  the  land  through  which  the 
railway  would  run.    By  the  clever  ruse  of  a  rail- 


PEEPAEING  FOE  THE  PLAY         21 

way  she  would  annex  practically  all  Asia  Minor, 
Palestine  and  Mesopotamia,  perhaps  Persia.  A 
railway  would  certainly  be  a  good  thing — ^but  not 
on  those  terms. 

While  the  plans  were  being  formed  and  made 
known  to  the  world,  the  petty  merchant  in  the 
Persian  Gulf  was  being  followed  by  other  Ger- 
mans ;  some  scientists,  some  engineers  looking  for 
a  good  terminus  for  the  railway,  some  representa- 
tives of  rich  German  firms  in  hopes  of  buying 
property  on  the  gulf.  Then  came  attempts  to 
prove  the  Turkish  ownership  of  lands  in  the  gulf, 
since  Turkey  wished  to  sell  the  lands  to  Germany. 
Finally  came  attempts  by  the  Turkish  government 
to  take  more  land  from  the  Arabs  along  the  coast, 
both  by  force  and  by  paying  Arabs  to  act  as  Ger- 
man agents. 

Every  attempt  to  get  land  by  force  failed  be- 
cause of  the  presence  of  British  men-of-war. 
Every  attempt  to  get  land  by  stealth  failed  be- 
cause of  the  gratitude  of  the  Arabs  to  England, 
the  power  that  had  so  long  been  the  patient  guard- 
ian of  order  in  the  gulf.  It  speaks  well  for  Eng- 
land's actions  in  the  gulf  that  every  one  of  the 


22     TO  BAGDAD  WITH  THE  BRITISH 

Arab  Sheikhs  at  the  head  of  the  districts  which 
Germany  was  trying  by  all  manner  of  means  to 
acquire,  stood  firm  by  Great  Britain  and  refused 
to  let  any  land  go  without  her  consent. 

When  this  failed,  the  next  move  was  to  make  the 
affair  an  international  contest,  to  challenge  Eng- 
land's right  to  predominate  influence  in  the  gulf, 
and  to  make  a  supposed  transgression  of  German 
** rights''  a  case  for  international  discussion. 
England,  some  years  before,  had  secured  the  right 
of  trade  up  the  Tigris,  and  the  Lynch  Brothers 
were  carrying  on  a  prosperous  trade  between 
Busra  and  Bagdad.  Against  this  Germany  started 
a  line  of  trade  with  the  Persian  Gulf.  The  Ham- 
burg-American line  ran  some  boats  to  the  gulf, 
treating  all  the  nation's  head-men  to  music  and 
wine — to  win  them  heartily  to  Germany.  Even 
these  means  failing  to  give  her  control  in  the  gulf, 
Germany  played  the  last  card,  the  card  that  has 
worked  so  successfully  with  other  nations  since 
the  outbreak  of  the  war.  She  put  the  matter  in 
the  hands  of  the  big  diplomats  of  the  countries; 
disguising  the  important  matters  as  unimportant, 
sliding  through  agreements  before  their  real  sig- 


PEEPARING  FOR  THE  PLAY  23 

nificance  could  be  grasped,  proposing,  under  pre- 
text of  playing  a  square  game  with  Turkey,  a 
plan  that  meant  nothing  but  the  helping  of  Ger- 
many, Turkey's  master.  Perhaps  if  the  British 
guardians  in  the  gulf  were  too  alert  for  any  under- 
hand work  to  succeed,  the  diplomats  in  London, 
so  far  away,  might  be  more  easily  influenced. 
Fortunately  nothing  was  signed  before  war  broke 
out.  Even  a  few  days '  delay  in  the  declaration  of 
war  might  have  told.  From  the  job-trader  in 
pearls  to  the  deep-dyed  plottings  of  villain  diplo- 
mats, every  sort  of  German  intrigue  had  been 
tried. 

In  the  meantime  the  railway  was  being  built. 
The  section  from  Bagdad  to  Samarra  was  just 
completed.  Enough  materials  were  piled  up  at 
Busra  to  run  a  line  across  the  Persian  frontier 
and  enable  the  troops  of  Germany's  vassals  to 
move  against  India. 

Germany  in  India!  Germany  in  Egypt!  The 
very  thoughts  make  one  shudder.  The  first  year 
of  the  war  would  require  nearly  all  of  the  troops 
in  India  to  help  on  the  western  front.  India  bled 
white,  northern  Persia  turning  to  Germany,  the 


24     TO  BAGDAD  WITH  THE  BRITISH 

effect  of  an  attack  on  either  India  or  Egypt  might 
be  disaster  unthinkable.  What  a  diance  for  in- 
trigue in  the  Far  East  Germany  would  have  with 
a  line  straight  from  Hamburg  to  the  Bay  of  Ben- 
gal— ^and  just  across  the  Pacific  lay  America! 

But  with  the  war  came  a  little  British  camp 
on  the  island  of  Bahrein,  not  so  very  far  from 
Busra.  Was  that  little  camp  a  part  of  the  World 
War  ?  Indeed  it  was — and  a  much  more  important 
part  than  it  thought.  It  was  starting  something 
more  than  a  war  between  Tommies  and  Turks. 
The  British  Empire  was  at  war  with  the  German 
Empire  to  maintain  England's  right  to  her  posi- 
tion in  the  East  and  to  vouchsafe  to  India  and 
Egypt  the  liberty  and  peace  gained  through  the 
strong  protecting  arm  of  Great  Britain.  In  the 
land  where  Assyria  and  Babylon  fought  for  the 
mastery  of  the  East,  where  a  Caliph  of  Bagdad 
claimed  allegiance  from  the  great  wall  of  China 
to  the  Atlantic,  now  Turks  and  Arabs,  as  tools  of 
Germany,  were  to  contend  against  the  power  of 
England — ^her  navy,  her  British  troops,  and  her 
dusky  warriors  of  India. 


PEEPAEING  FOR  THE  PLAY  25 

Yet  this  was  not  to  be  like  the  war  in  France. 
There  is  all  the  difference  between  war  in  France 
and  war  in  Mesopotamia  that  there  is  between 
Paris  and  Bagdad. 


CHAPTER  n 

TRAGEDY— ACT  I,  PART  1— BRILLIANT  SUCCESS 

It  was  October  of  1914  when  the  brigade  from 
Poona  pitched  camp  on  the  island  of  Bahrein. 
War  between  England  and  Turkey  was  not  de- 
clared until  the  following  month.  To  the  men 
there,  waiting  to  move  into  Mesopotamia,  life  was 
interesting  enough.  They  were  in  the  very  center 
of  the  greatest  pearl  industry  in  the  world.  The 
pearls  from  all  over  the  great  pearl  bank  of  the 
Persian  Gulf  came  on  the  clumsy  old  dhows  to 
the  snug  little  island  in  behind  a  neck  of  the 
Arabian  shore.  It  was  fine  to  watch  the  Arabs  at 
their  work,  and  to  get  used  to  their  life.  They 
looked  just  like  the  characters  of  the  Old  Testa- 
ment and  time  seemed  to  turn  back  twenty  cen- 
turies. Perhaps  some  of  these  fellows  were  "Wise 
Men  or  Prophets. 

Some  of  the  more  imaginative  of  the  officers  of 
the  brigade  looked  forward  with  a  curious  thrill 

26 


BEILLIANT  SUCCESS  27 

to  fighting  in  the  land  where  onoe  the  heads  of  the 
world's  great  empires  of  the  East  led  their 
armies.  And  they  seemed  to  feel  a  peculiar  satis- 
faction in  the  thought  that  Bagdad  was  in  that 
land.  They  were  wont  to  look  over  the  blue  water 
of  the  gulf  and  see  in  the  mist  that  hung  between 
the  waves  and  the  clouds  all  sorts  of  beautiful  pic- 
tures of  golden  Bagdad,  with  glistening  domes, 
and  palaces,  and  richly  dressed  ladies  of  court. 
Most  of  these  twentieth-century  soldiers,  how- 
ever, were  too  prosaic  for  any  such  thoughts  as 
these.  They  saw  nothing  in  the  patter  of  the 
dreamer  who  found  so  much  to  think  about  in  this 
land  of  the  dim  past.  Their  care  was  for  the  pres- 
ent. Their  only  interest  was  the  daily  practiciag 
for  the  landing  in  boats  on  the  shores  of  Meso- 
potamia. They  were  thinking  of  the  hardships 
that  awaited  them  in  Mesopotamia.  The  thunder- 
storms in  the  gulf  were  bad  enough.  They  knew 
that  the  country  was  just  one  vast  plain  where 
nothing  grew  except  shrubs,  and  these  only  here 
and  there  along  the  banks  of  the  two  winding, 
muddy  rivers  that  wriggled  through  the  land  like 
two  snakes  through  a  deserted  field.     Because 


28     TO  BAGDAD  WITH  THE  BRITISH 

there  was  nothing  growing  there  were  continually 
terrific  dust  storms,  swooping  over  the  plains, 
sped  on  by  the  burning  winds.  This  they  knew. 
Imagination  was  a  fine  thing  in  the  cool  evenings 
with  the  wonderful  Eastern  sunsets ;  but  with  the 
hot  sun  shining  down  on  the  Arabian  island,  fact 
won  the  day.  Mesopotamia,  by  common  consent, 
was  to  be  hot  and  dry  and  dusty  and  miserable. 

At  Bahrein  the  peaceful  native  people  at  their 
labor  of  pearls  certainly  made  war  seem  far  away. 
Perhaps  there  would  not  be  war  with  Turkey  after 
all.  But  things  were  moving  faster  in  other  parts 
of  the  world.  Turkey,  as  vassal  of  Germany  and 
as  official  overlord  of  Mesopotamia,  was  about  to 
make  trouble ;  not,  perhaps,  because  she  wanted  to, 
but  because  it  was  the  Kaiser's  will. 

The  British  subjects  in  Busra  and  Bagdad  were 
getting  nervous  about  staying  where  they  were. 
Many  of  them  got  away.  Some  from  Busra  got  to 
Mohamera,  the  big  station  of  the  Anglo-Persian 
Oil  Company,  where  they  were  safe  on  Persian 
soil.  Then  word  came  that  at  Constantinople  the 
British  representative  had  asked  for  his  passports 
and  that  no  more  British  subjects  would  be  al- 


BRILLIANT  SUCCESS  29 

lowed  to  leave  Busra  or  Bagdad.  That  really- 
looked  serious.  The  British  gunboat  H.  M,  8, 
Espiegle,  lying  in  the  Shat-al-Arab  near  the  oil 
works,  stripped  for  action  with  her  six  four-inch 
guns.  It  was  none  too  soon.  From  the  council 
halls  of  Europe  war  was  declared  between  Eng- 
land and  Turkey. 

The  curtain  rolled  up  at  the  word  **war.'^  On 
receipt  of  a  radio-message  from  India  the  force  on 
the  island  of  Bahrein  broke  camp,  embarked  and 
entered  the  stage.  The  declaration  of  war  came 
on  November  fifth.  The  force  stepped  on  the 
stage  on  the  sixth,  at  the  mouth  of  the  Shat-al- 
Arab,  the  estuary  of  the  Tigris  and  Euphrates. 

The  first  glimpse  of  the  desert  land  was  a  com- 
plete surprise.  On  both  sides  of  the  winding  river 
were  masses  of  beautiful  palm  trees,  marshes  and 
shrubs.  **It's  the  garden  of  Eden,  sure  enough,'* 
said  one  of  the  young  officers.  **Look  at  the  trees. 
Who  said  it  was  all  desert T'  ** Desolate"  surely 
could  not  be  the  word  to  use  for  that  inviting 
shore.  Palms  grew  in  perfect  lines  out  from  the 
river,  about  two  miles.  Between  each  two  lines 
was  a  small  canal  leading  the  water  in  from  the 


30     TO  BAGDAD  WITH  THE  BRITISH 

river.  Once  in  a  while  the  boats  passed  an  open- 
ing in  the  forests  of  palms.  Through  the  space 
could  be  seen  bare  flat  plains,  stretching  far  away 
from  the  river,  past  the  fringe  of  pahns,  it  seemed^ 
to  very  eternity.  It  was  indeed  lovely.  But  other, 
less  imaginative  men  were  scanning  all  the  land 
in  sight  for  signs  of  Turkish  forts,  of  guns,  or  of 
troops.  To  them  it  was  no  time  to  wonder  about 
the  scenery.    They  had  a  part  to  play. 

A  few  Turkish  guns  were  in  position  near  the 
mouth  of  the  Shat-al-Arab.  A  strenuous  bom- 
bardment soon  silenced  them.  A  little  way  up  the 
river,  past  a  few  of  the  bends,  at  the  little  town  of 
Fao,  was  a  Turkish  fort,  built  many  years  before 
when  Turkey  first  came  to  the  gulf  with  serious 
intentions.  It  was  just  a  wee  structure  which  to 
all  appearances  might  have  been  a  fort  built  by 
some  boys  in  the  sand  at  the  seashore.  It  seemed 
like  a  toy  war  that  this  brigade  was  starting;  al- 
most as  ridiculous  as  though  the  armies  had 
decided  to  fight  with  pop  guns. 

Not  even  the  most  pessimistic  of  those  men 
present  at  the  first  encounter  had  the  slightest 
idea  that  it  would  cost  England  so  much  in  men 


BRILLIANT  SUCCESS  31 

and  money  to  finish  the  campaign  that  began  with 
the  leveling  of  the  little  mud  fort  at  Fao.  The 
guns  of  the  small  fleet  had  accomplished  that  task 
in  short  order.  Some  six  hundred  men  with  a 
section  of  artillery  landed  to  clinch  the  victory  at 
Fao,  and  the  flotilla  of  transports  and  gunboats 
steamed  farther  up  the  river.  As  the  landed 
troops  watched  them  go  up  stream  they  might 
well  have  asked,  **Are  they  going  to  Bagdad  f 

The  advance  had  begun;  and  no  one  could  say 
where  it  would  stop.  The  very  first  necessity  was 
to  protect  the  top  of  the  gulf  and  that  part  of 
Persia  where  the  great  oil  supply  flowed  through 
pipes  to  the  refinery  on  the  Shat-al-Arab.  A  blow 
at  that  line  by  the  Turks  would  mean  the  de- 
struction of  works  that  had  cost  tremendously  in 
money  and  men. 

A  Persian  company  first  cunk  a  million  pounds 
in  the  oil  business.  It  soon  found  that  it  cost  ten 
pounds  to  transport  over  the  endless  hills  and 
plains  the  oil  that  would  have  to  sell  for  four 
pounds.  When  that  company  went  up  in  smoke, 
an  English  capitalist  undertook  the  good  work. 
Under  the  direction  of  an  expert  engineer,  three 


32     TO  BAGDAD  WITH  THE  BRITISH 

hundred  and  sixty  miles  of  pipe  line  were  laid  to 
convey  the  oil  from  the  naphtha  fields  in  north 
Persia,  over  the  mountains  of  Luristan,  across  the 
arid  wastes  of  Aribistan  to  the  ports  of  Mohamera 
and  Abidan.  It  took  patience  and  courage  to  com- 
plete the  undertaking  after  the  failure  of  the 
Persian  firm;  and  the  line  was  worth  protecting 
now.  It  had  benefited  the  people  and  the  govern- 
ment of  Persia  more  than  they  knew.  The  seven 
thousand  employees  at  the  refining  works  would 
need  considerable  protection.  The  little  gunboat 
Espiegle  was  at  its  post  to  protect  the  terminus  of 
the  pipe  at  Mohamera  and  Abidan.  But  it  would 
do  little  good  to  protect  the  end  of  the  line  and  let 
the  rest  be  cut  to  pieces  by  Turks  and  Arabs. 

Two  more  brigades  arrived  on  November  14  to 
reenforce  the  one  already  operating,  making  the 
British  force  of  occupation  one  division  under  the 
command  of  General  Barrett.  Nothing  was  occu- 
pied as  yet,  but  the  advance  to  Busra  was  made 
in  a  few  days.  A  most  curious  sort  of  advance  it 
was.  The  Turks'  resistance  soon  broke  and  they 
made  for  the  *'date  town''  with  their  pursuers 
hot  after  them,  fighting  in  the  woods  of  date 


BRILLIANT  SUCCESS  33 

palms,  in  the  marshes  and  on  the  plains.  The 
boats  on  the  river  increased  the  speed  of  the  rout, 
by  dropping  a  few  shells  in  from  the  side.  The 
men  on  the  gunboats  soon  found  that  their  guns 
were  the  only  ones  in  action.  How  strange  that 
the  land  batteries  should  stop  when  there  was  such 
a  good  harvest  in  store  for  their  shells!  The 
explanation,  made  clear  at  last,  was  that  though 
the  enemy  was  plainly  visible  from  the  high  decks 
of  the  steamer  the  retreating  Turks  were  com- 
pletely concealed  from  the  eyes  of  the  British  on 
land  by  the  mirage,  that  fiend  of  the  desert.  The 
pahns  seemed  to  be  growing  in  the  air  and  to  rise 
and  fall  like  the  side  of  a  great  bellows.  As  for 
the  Turks,  they  neither  rose  nor  fell.  They  were 
nowhere. 

There  was  a  great  celebration  in  Busra  at  the 
changing  of  governors.  The  dignitaries  met  the 
commanders  of  the  force  and  a  lengthy  procla- 
mation of  good  intentions  followed.  The  German 
Consul  and  five  other  Germans  were  shipped  to 
India.  Even  Arabs,  after  experiencing  Turkish 
rule  for  a  short  time,  were  glad  to  see  the  greedy 
governors  and  officials  leave.     The  townspeople 


34     TO  BAGDAD  WITH  THE  BRITISH 

lined  the  banks  of  the  only  good  canal  that  re- 
mains to  the  ^*  Venice  of  the  Easf  and  joined  in 
the  hearty  welcome  to  the  force  that  had  rid  them 
of  the  unspeakable  Turk.  Some  of  the  Arabs  had 
joined  in  the  sport  of  war  while  the  advance  to 
Busra  was  on,  by  deserting  from  their  supposed 
places  in  the  Turkish  army  and  plundering  the 
Turkish  wounded  as  they  fell  on  the  field. 

Soon  after  the  first  of  December  Kuma  met 
the  fate  of  Busra.  A  unique  fleet  aided  in  the 
capture  of  Kuma.  As  there  were  few  gunboats 
available,  Arab  scows,  **mahailas"  and  '^bal- 
lams,''  big,  clumsy  boats  that  might  have  belonged 
to  the  cave-man  period,  were  pressed  into  the  ser- 
vice. With  iron  plates  on  the  sides  and  across  the 
top,  these  ancient  hulls  became  armored  cruisers. 
But  this  queer-looking  fleet  did  its  work  well  and 
Kuma  fell  with  but  few  casualties.  Kurna  is 
about  thirty  miles  by  river  north  of  Busra.  The 
Euphrates  used  to  join  the  Tigris  at  this  place, 
though  now  only  a  small  stream  from  the  Eu- 
phrates enters  here  and  the  main  current  flows 
into  the  Tigris  at  Busra.  With  both  these  junc- 
tures of  the  two  rivers  taken,  the  British  could 


The  highway  of  13usra,  the  ''Venice  of  the  East" 
(From  a  photograph  hy  Mr.   Weir  Stewart). 


...  /■ 


t.tliR-- 


Arab  huts  on  the  bank  of  the  Tigris 

(From  a  photograph  hy  Mr.   Weir  Stewart). 


BEILLIANT  SUCCESS  35 

control  both  rivers  and  make  Busra  doubly  safe. 
Likewise  the  Kurun  Eiver  in  Persia,  along  which 
the  pipe  line  was  laid,  might  be  guarded  more 
easily.  A  force  stretched  along  that  river  as  far 
as  Ahwaz.  Busra,  the  gulf  and  the  oil-line  were 
safe. 

The  days  of  December  were  not  like  those  of 
summer,  and  there  were  no  stoves.  It  was  cold 
and  damp  and  disagreeable,  there  at  Kuma.  The 
Arab  belief  that  at  that  very  spot  was  the  Garden 
of  Eden  seemed  to  have  little  application  to  the 
barren,  shivery  spot  where  the  force  pitched 
camp.  It  might  have  been  accepted  down  near 
Busra,  where  there  were  beautiful  date  groves, 
but  near  the  camp  of  the  British  at  Kurna 
there  was  nothing  but  barren  plain.  Everybody 
called  it  desert — for  nothing  grew  but  the  bristly 
kind  of  stubble  that  insists  upon  growing  where 
nothing  else  can  live. 

Early  one  morning,  when  it  was  cold  and  felt 
like  rain,  a  Tommy  from  London,  a  *'pucca  Cock- 
ney, '  ^  gingerly  slid  out  of  his  blankets  to  perform 
his  morning  task  of  stewing  up  a  Dixie  of  tea. 
**Brrr ''  he  said  and  shook  all  over.  He  looked 


36     TO  BAGDAD  WITH  THE  BRITISH 

around  at  the  bleak  landscape;  nothing  but  dirt, 
and  a  little  mud,  to  be  seen.  He  kicked  a  chum 
who  was  sleeping  on  the  ground  at  his  feet.  ^  ^  Say ! 
Call  this  the  Garden  of  Heden?  If  this  was  the 
blumin'  Garden  of  Heden  hi  don't  blame  the 
twelve  hapostles  for  gittin'  out  of  it.''  A  con- 
fused jumble  of  words  built  on  the  dominant 
** bloody"  came  from  some  part  of  the  blanket  that 
was  kicked  for  the  sake  of  giving  utterance  to  this 
bit  of  wisdom. 

That  kind  of  weather  is  not  designed  for  com- 
fort, nor  is  it  conducive  to  a  desire  to  sit  still. 
Just  a  move  for  the  sake  of  moving  is  enough. 
Besides,  the  Turks  were  beaten  easily  enough. 
Why  not  straf  them  some  more? 

But  the  experiences  of  the  Egyptian  campaign 
had  taught  the  authorities  in  London  a  few  les- 
sons about  desert  warfare.  One  of  them  was  that 
once  you  start  into  an  open  country,  especially 
such  a  country  as  Mesopotamia,  where  the  fighting 
has  to  follow  several  rivers,  it  is  hard  to  know 
where  to  stop.  The  objectives  are  liable  to  be 
indefinite.  *  'A  safe  game  must  be  played  in  Meso- 
potamia."   That  was  the  note  struck  in  London 


BRILLIANT  SUCCESS  37 

at  the  start  of  the  Mesopotamia  campaign.  A  safe 
game  meant  occupation  and  defense.  That  was 
already  accomplished.  It  seemed  that  everything 
that  brought  the  force  to  Mesopotamia  was  fin- 
ished. Would  that  the  play  could  have  ended  here 
with  the  assurance  that  the  force  lived  happily 
and  heartily  ever  after !  For  the  sake  of  the  killed 
and  wounded,  would  that  it  had  ended  here ! 

But  Ahwaz  was  far  from  Bagdad.  So  were 
Busra  and  Kurna.  During  the  month  of  March 
some  savage  attacks  by  the  Turks  showed  that  the 
sting  of  the  British  blow  in  Mesopotamia  was 
keenly  felt  somewhere,  probably  in  Berlin.  An 
attack  toward  the  pipe  line  in  Persia,  not  far  from 
Ahwaz,  by  12,000  Turks,  and  an  attack  at  Shaiba 
from  Busra  by  1,500  Turk  horsemen,  **put  the 
wind  up  the  British. '  *  It  was  clear  that  they  had 
started  the  defense  of  the  pipe  line  none  too  soon. 
It  looked  as  though  it  would  be  necessary  to  take 
a  position  still  farther  up  the  river  to  make  the 
possessions  really  safe. 

Another  British  division  landed  at  Busra.  The 
force  was  fast  growing.  Sir  Arthur  Barrett,  com- 
mander in  chief  in  Mesopotamia,  being  ill,  handed 


38     TO  BAGDAD  WITH  THE  BRITISH 

over  the  command  to  Sir  John  Nixon.  A  new 
name  was  now  at  the  top  of  the  list  of  characters 
for  the  side  show.  But  Sir  John  Nixon  already 
knew  the  stage  and  the  scenery.  His  father  had 
been  at  one  time  Consul-General  at  Bagdad. 

The  campaign  which  he  set  himself  to  carry  out 
was  **to  take  active  measures  against  the  enemy.'' 
That  might  suggest  any  far-off  goal,  limited  only 
by  the  stretch  of  the  imagination.  The  words  from 
London  came  like  writing  on  the  wall — *^A  safe 
game  must  be  played  in  Mesopotamia.'* 

In  accordance  with  that  warning  the  slogan  of 
the  force  should  have  been,  **We'll  hold  back  the 
Turks  at  any  cost."  But  the  fever  to  **get  on 
with  it"  was  fast  growing.  The  slogan  was  be- 
coming, **We'll  beat  back  the  Turks  wherever 
they  are."  That  sounded  dangerous.  Starting 
out  on  three  rivers  to  beat  up  the  Turks  is  a  con- 
siderable task,  hardly  in  sympathy  with  the  warn- 
ing from  home.  At  that  very  critical  time  in  the 
war  there  was  no  prospect  of  having  a  large  num- 
ber of  reenf  orcements  to  draw  upon.  The  request 
for  troops  to  fight  in  the  Dardanelles  had  been 
refused.    What  chance  had  the  Mesopotamia  side 


# 


#-' 


9    ,''i^ 


^    r 


39 


40     TO  BAGDAD  WITH  THE  BRITISH 

show  of  getting  more  troops  I  With  the  Kaiser  so 
busy  in  France  and  Russia  a  small  force  at  the 
head  of  the  Persian  Gulf  would  be  able  to  hold 
back  what  little  strength  he  could  use  in  that  part 
of  the  world.  *^At  the  head  of  the  Persian  Gulf'' 
sounded  all  right,  but  the  force  was  already  a  long 
way  above  that  and  ready  for  another  move. 

The  aggressive  spirit  of  the  Mesopotamia  force 
was  soon  rewarded  by  brilliant  victories.  The  first 
object  of  its  spirit  was  Amara,  eighty-five  miles 
along  the  winding  river  north  of  Kurna.  The 
attack  on  Amara  was  so  unusual  as  to  be  comical. 
It  was  decided  to  have  as  large  a  fleet  as  possible 
to  act  with  the  land  force  on  the  march.  The  gun- 
boat Comet  and  three  tugs  formed  the  fleet.  The 
ordinary  use  of  the  tugs  was  transporting  sup- 
plies, but  they  served  well  enough  as  men-of-war 
if  there  need  be  little  fighting.  The  advance  be- 
gan, time  had  slipped  around  to  June  and  the 
scorching  days  of  summer  were  setting  in.  With 
the  mosquitos  and  the  sand  fleas,  burning  wind 
and  pests  of  flies,  the  force  felt  indeed  as  though 
it  were  being  driven  out  of  the  Garden  of  Eden. 

There  was  heavy  fighting  on  the  way  to  Amara. 


BRILLIANT  SUCCESS  41 

Again  the  fighting  was  disturbed  by  the  beastly 
mirage.  Suddenly  a  caravan  behind  appeared  to 
be  walking  in  the  air.  Mud  villages  of  the  Arabs 
rose  and  fell  as  though  on  a  rolling  sea.  A  shim- 
mery  lake  appeared  in  the  distance^ — only  to  dis- 
appear or  gradually  move  away.  But  the  Turks 
were  again  routed.  Urged  on  by  the  victory  and 
by  the  spirit  of  adventure,  the  flotilla  of  tugs 
pushed  on  past  the  land  force.  This  little  fleet  has 
become  famous  as  the  victorious  **Townshend's 
Eegatta.  * '  With  the  troops  a  day's  march  behind, 
the  flotilla  arrived  at  Amara.  Most  of  the  boats 
would  have  failed  the  simplest  test  as  fighting 
ships.  I  have  been  told  that  two  of  them  could  not 
have  shot  over  the  bank,  their  guns  were  mounted 
so  low.  They  could  have  shot  at  some  birds  in  the 
air  or  men  standing  right  on  the  bank  of  the  river 
but  that  would  not  take  the  town. 

Nevertheless,  the  British  Command  boldly  de- 
manded that  the  Turks  at  Amara  surrender.  The 
news  of  the  rout  of  the  army  down  the  river  had 
reached  the  town  and  the  whole  town  garrison 
of  seven  hundred  men  surrendered  rather  than 
venture  into  another  bit  of  confusion  with  this 


42     TO  BAGDAD  WITH  THE  BRITISH 

strange-looking  fleet.  What  the  tugs  were  to  do 
with  those  seven  hundred  men  was  a  question. 
The  embarrassment  of  having  prisoners  and  no 
force  to  take  care  of  them  grew  as  the  day  went 
on.  The  land  force  was  still  far  away.  There 
were  some  nervous  hours  for  the  men  on  the  boats 
as  they  waited  for  the  pursuing  army  to  reach 
Amara.  Suppose  something  should  go  wrong! 
But  with  Townshend  things  did  not  go  wrong. 
The  Turks,  as  they  looked  at  the  little  tugs,  were 
beginning  to  itch  to  raid  them  instead  of  sitting 
aimlessly  as  prisoners,  when  their  friends  on  the 
retreat  began  to  fall  back  to  the  town,  and  the 
victorious  British  army  appeared.  The  *^  war- 
ship'' commanders  breathed  a  sigh  of  relief  when 
the  surrendered  garrison  were  marched  to  the 
rear.    It  had  been  an  exciting  day. 

In  the  advance  to  Amara  over  two  thousand 
prisoners  were  taken  and  as  the  British  officers  in 
their  new  mess  halls  sat  around  talking  over  the 
eventful  days,  there  were  few  who  were  not  of  the 
opinion  that  the  little  force  on  the  Tigris  could 
tackle  any  task  whatever.  Again  the  warning 
came,  **A  safe  game  must  be  played  in  Meso- 


BEILLIANT  SUCCESS  43 

potamia/'  The  force  at  the  new  British  town  of 
Amara  were  in  a  mood  to  laugh  at  that  warning. 
If  they  had  been  less  respectful  perhaps  some  of 
them  would  have  laughed. 

The  next  objective  was  the  town  of  Nasarie,  on 
the  Euphrates.  The  capture  of  this  town  would 
make  Busra  still  safer  and  would  give  to  the  Brit- 
ish the  main  position  on  the  Euphrates.  From  the 
political  point  of  view  the  capture  of  the  town 
would  be  very  important,  for  from  there  the 
Arabs  on  the  Euphrates  might  be  influenced  to 
loyalty  to  the  British.  Arabs  everywhere  clung  to 
the  Turks  because  of  the  tie  of  Mohammedanism, 
but  were  very  glad  to  be  rid  of  them  as  overlords. 
The  trouble  between  the  Arabs  and  the  Turks 
near  Mecca,  across  the  Arabian  desert,  was  under 
way.  The  demand  for  a  free  Arabia  was  growing. 
The  Arabs  looked  to  England  to  help  them  as  she 
had  helped  Egypt.  Every  district  of  Arabia 
drawn  to  England  weakened  the  war  strength 
of  the  Turks.  It  would  be  well  to  have  Nasarie, 
on  the  Euphrates. 

A  little  over  a  month  after  the  brilliant  capture 
of  Amara,  Nasarie  fell,  with  almost  as  many  pris- 


44     TO  BAGDAD  WITH  THE  BRITISH 

oners  as  were  taken  at  Amara,  and  a  dozen  Turk- 
ish gnns.  Nasarie  lay  at  the  southern  end  of  the 
river  Hal.  Once  the  main  current  of  the  Tigris 
but  now  a  small  river,  the  Hai  was  a  connectiag 
link  between  the  Tigris  and  the  Euphrates.  It 
brought  a  small  amount  of  the  water  of  the  Tigris 
down  to  the  Euphrates,  to  join  the  Tigris  again 
at  Kurna  and  Busra.  At  the  northern  end  of  the 
little  stream  lay  Kut-al-Amara  and  at  Kut-al- 
Amara  was  the  Turkish  general  Nur-ed-din,  the 
** Light  of  the  Faith.''  It  would  surely  be  wise  to 
take  Kut,  now  that  the  lower  part  of  the  river 
Hai  was  in  British  hands. 

So  it  went.  German  schemes  against  Busra  and 
the  oil  supply  had  led  to  Kurna  and  Ahwaz. 
Kurna  and  Ahwaz  led  to  Amara  and  Nasarie. 
Now  Nasarie  and  the  river  Hai  pointed  straight 
to  Kut  and  the  Turk  Nur-ed-din.  Suppose  Kut 
fell — and  there  was  every  reason  to  believe  that 
the  spirit  which  took  Amara  and  Nasarie  would 
succeed  at  Kut — ^what  would  Kut  point  to  ?  There 
was  only  one  place  for  it  to  point — Bagdad.  The 
heat  grew  worse  and  life  became  a  burden.  This 
was  no  toy  war  now. 


CHAPTEE  III 

TRAGEDY— ACT  I,  PART  2— THE  ADVANCE  TOWARD 
BAGDAD 

Camp  at  Amara  was  getting  settled.   Lieutenant 

H walked  into  Ms  mess  anteroom,  once  the 

office  of  a  Turkish  official,  in  the  mud-brick  offi- 
cers'  quarters  on  the  river  front.  His  eyes  were 
swollen  with  the  heat  and  the  burning  dust  that 
was  blowing  over  the  plains.  His  light  khaki  drill 
shorts  and  shirt  were  wringing  wet  with  perspir- 
ation. He  threw  off  his  sun  helmet  and  fell  limp 
into  a  chair.  * '  Got  a  letter  today,  * '  he  said,  * '  from 
the  lady.  She  says  she 's  glad  we  are  away  out  in 
Mesopotamia  where  we  do  not  have  to  suffer  the 
tortures  of  the  French  front. '  *  He  looked  around 
at  his  fellow  officers  who  were  lounging  in  the 
room,  trying  to  keep  cool.  They  all  understood 
what  he  was  thinking  about  and  nodded  approval. 
**I  suppose,"  he  went  on,  *Hhat  people  home  think 
we  are  just  here  on  sort  of  a  picnic,  straffing  the 

45 


46     TO  BAGDAD  WITH  THE  BRITISH 

Turks  for  exercise.  I  wouldn't  mind  tlie  beastly 
job  if  it  weren't  so  thankless.  Imagine  being  glad 
we  are  escaping  the  tortures  of  the  French  front 
with  the  temperature  inside  the  tents  a  hundred 
and  ten  and  everybody  being  laid  up  with  fever 
or  sunstroke  or  something !  Perhaps  the  lady  pic- 
tures me  dressed  in  the  Sultan's  best  robes  and 
sitting  in  the  middle  of  a  court  with  dark-skinned 
lackeys  to  fan  me  all  day  long  and  nothing  to  do 
but  drink  coffee  and  smoke  my  hubble-bubble,  like 
these  bally  Arabs.    "We're  not  in  Bagdad  yet." 

^^Yet "  that  is  significant.    A  while  before 

there  would  have  been  no  idea  of  ever  actually 
being  in  Bagdad.  Now  it  seemed  only  a  matter  of 
time. 

**But  we  can't  kick,  at  that,"  said  one  of  the 
loungers.  ^^It  may  be  hot,  but  it's  a  lot  better 
to  have  a  war  out  here  in  the  deserts  where  you 
can't  hurt  anything  than  to  have  to  fight  over  the 
beautiful  villages  of  France.  If  there's  got  to  be 
war  it  might  as  well  be  here.  If  they  ran  the 
whole  war  out  here  we  could  all  go  home  at  the  end 
and  find  our  homes  just  as  we  left  them." 

He  was  dead  right.     The  show  that  they  had 


THE  ADVANCE  47 

started  in  Mesopotamia  was  an  ideal  war.  It  was 
like  two  schoolboys  going  out  into  a  vacant  lot  far 
away  from  the  crowd  and  having  it  out  in  a  real 
good  scrap.  Passing  by  all  the  towns  on  the  Ti- 
gris and  Euphrates  without  dropping  a  single 
shell  into  them,  the  forces  there  were  doing  all 
their  fighting  out  in  the  plains  where  there  was 
nothing  to  hurt ;  and  where  there  were  no  villages 
to  leave  in  ruins  and  no  villagers  but  the  wander- 
ing Arabs,  who  were  always  far  out  of  danger. 
From  that  point  of  view,  war  in  Mesopotamia 
appeals  to  us  all.  I  have  been  through  peaceful 
France  and  have  loved  it  as  everyone  who  loves 
beauty  must.  The  ridges  of  hills,  the  pretty  wind- 
ing streams  flowing  between  beautiful  green  banks 
dotted  with  wild  flowers,  have  brought  to  me  that 
joy  that  nature 's  perfect  beauty  brings.  The  end- 
less rows  of  rich  farms  and  quaint  little  farm- 
houses, the  white,  smooth  roads  lined  with  tall 
green  trees,  perhaps  in  the  road  a  donkey  cart 
jogging  along  following  a  peasant  to  market,  and 
then  the  villages,  groups  of  inviting  houses  in  a 
maze  of  green — that  is  the  lovable  country  of 


48     TO  BAGDAD  WITH  THE  BRITISH 

France.  War  has  changed  all  that,  wherever  it 
has  gone. 

The  ridges  and  valleys  are  masses  of  shell 
craters  now.  The  banks  of  the  streams  are  lines 
of  trenches.  The  green  of  the  trees  has  changed 
to  a  black  char  of  scorched  stumps.  The  pleasant 
towns  and  villages  are  heaps  of  broken  walls  and 
jumbles  of  ru;ins.  Everyone  knows  what  that 
means  to  the  people  who  once  lived  their  happy 
lives  in  the  little  towns  of  beautiful  France.  That 
is  too  awful  to  speak  of.  We  must  fight  because 
of  that. 

But  there  is  no  chance  for  that  ruin  in  Meso- 
potamia. War  there  is  war  in  its  simplest  state. 
It  stands  out  in  bold  outline  against  the  horrors 
of  the  tumult  in  France.  The  ruins  in  France  are 
the  ruins  of  Prussian  greed.  There  are  no  ruins 
in  Mesopotamia  but  the  ruins  of  time.  The  agony 
in  France  is  the  agony  of  ruined  homes  and  ruined 
lives.  There  is  little  of  that  in  Mesopotamia.  It 
is  still  war,  there,  but  it  is  war  off  in  exile  from 
the  world,  war  without  all  the  social  evils  of  the 
western  front  and  without  all  the  inhumanness  of 
Germany.     On  the  western  front  there  are  war 


THE  ADVANCE  49 

implements  which  the  world  in  its  right  mind  will 
not  tolerate.  In  Mesopotamia  the  war  is  a  war  of 
bullets,  as  it  was  many  years  ago.  In  the  deserts 
there  are  no  Germans,  running  wild  in  their  bru- 
tality at  the  bidding  of  their  war  lords.  There  are 
atrocities  even  on  the  arid  plains  of  Arabia,  but 
they  come  from  the  people  themselves,  the  blood- 
thirsty Arabs.  It  is  war  on  the  western  front 
turned  upside  down.  The  devilish  cruelties  of  war 
come  not  upon  the  people  of  the  land,  but  from 
them. 

Would  that  the  whole  war  could  be  fought  in  the 
desert  lands,  where  there  can  be  no  more  ruins, 
where  there  are  no  beautiful  towns  and  villages, 
where  there  are  no  beautiful  streams  and  woods 
and  hills  and  valleys,  where  the  birds  of  our  world 
never  sing  and  where  the  beauties  of  the  peaceful, 
innocent  life  of  villages  in  France  are  not  known ! 
But  no — the  deserts  are  only  for  a  side  show.  The 
main  show  goes  steadily  on  over  land  that  is 
meant  for  peace.  We  may  find  on  the  western 
front  the  exhibitions  of  strength  and  cunning,  but 
in  Mesopotamia  we  see  war  as  we  used  to  imagine 
it  and  get  anew  a  faith  that  man  is  still  human. 


50     TO  BAGDAD  WITH  THE  BRITISH 

That  is  what  was  in  the  mind  of  the  lady  who 
wrote  to  her  dear  husband  in  Mesopotamia  to  say- 
she  was  glad  he  could  be  there  instead  of  in 
France. 

And  the  thought  spread.  Amara  began  to  seem 
quite  livable  after  all.  There  was  a  chance  for  a 
fairly  clean  swim  in  the  river  in  the  cool  of  the 
evening.  Several  chaps  got  nipped  by  some  sort 
of  fish — they  were  sure  it  was  Jonah's  whale — 
but  a  chance  to  cool  off  was  worth  the  risk.  With 
the  aid  of  a  little  sense  of  humor  the  antics  of  the 
Arabs  alone  were  worth  the  price  of  admission. 

The  Arabs  had  some  doubts  about  their  new 
masters  for  a  while.  They  hesitated  to  take  the 
English  paper  money  and  there  was  a  run  on  the 
field  treasurer  for  silver.  The  Arabs  cared  little 
about  the  Indians  and  the  feeling  was  recipro- 
cated. The  Indians  felt  far  superior  to  mere 
Arabs.  It  was  funny  to  see  the  grades  of  stand- 
ing, from  Arabs  to  Tommies.  Some  Arabs  were 
walking  along  the  bund  by  the  river  where  there 
was  room  only  for  two  or  three  abreast.  A  section 
of  Indians  of  a  coolie  labor-corps  approached 
them  from  the  opposite  direction.     They  might 


THE  ADVANCE  51 

have  found  room  to  pass,  but  no,  the  Arabs  must 
jump  down  to  the  water  to  let  the  Indians  have 
the  whole  bund.  No  sooner  had  the  Indians  kicked 
all  the  Arabs  off  the  bund  than  there  came  along 
some  Tommies  leading  a  cart  with  some  stores. 
Off  went  the  Indians  this  time.  The  Arabs  looked 
at  the  Indians  and  grinned.  The  Indians  looked 
at  the  Arabs  and  scowled,  and  the  Tommies  no- 
ticed nothing. 

The  Indians  felt  grieved  because  the  Arab 
** bazaar  wallas"  or  merchants  could  not  be  bar- 
gained with  as  easily  as  the  ^* bazaar  wallas''  in 
India,  but  they  felt  very  much  above  them  as  part 
of  the  force.  The  Indian  sentries  felt  a  special 
pride  in  their  position  because  they  had  orders  to 
shoot  an  Arab  at  sight,  after  dark. 

One  fellow  had  an  experience  that  made  him  a 
little  doubtful  of  his  superiority.  It  was  a  rather 
dark  night,  but  in  the  dimness  the  sentry  saw 
something  moving,  not  far  from  camp.  He 
shouted  **Halt."  The  figure  kept  moving  as 
though  he  did  not  hear.  Again  the  Indian  shouted, 
but  the  figure  still  moved  along  steadily.  Then 
aiming  in  hopes  of  hitting  it  if  it  were  an  Arab 


52     TO  BAGDAD  WITH  THE  BRITISH 

and  missing  it  if  it  were  not,  he  fired.  The  figure 
dropped.  Trembling  with  excitement  at  the  idea 
of  being  able  to  report  that  he  had  shot  a  ^^hudoo*' 
the  Indian  approached  the  spot  where  the  figure 
had  dropped.  Nothing  was  stirring.  He  must 
have  hit  him.  He  walked  nearer.  Now  he  could 
make  out  the  shape.  It  was  a  man  in  a  huddled 
position. 

Knowing  no  Arabic  except  the  word  ^'ArabV* 
and  no  English  but  the  challenge,  *'Halt!  Who 
goes  there ! ' '  he  gave  that  for  the  sake  of  the  heap 
on  the  ground.  Nothing  stirred.  The  Arab  was 
surely  dead.  Convinced  that  he  had  a  prize,  the 
sentry  walked  forward  and  in  his  glee  was  about 
to  kick  the  dead  man  when  up  got  the  Arab,  seized 
the  gun  from  the  Indian,  and  made  across  the 
desert,  never  again  to  be  seen. 

I  ran  into  some  Tommies  one  day  who  were 
having  out  some  of  the  old  stories  about  the  first 
days  of  the  campaign.  Their  tales  of  the  exploits 
of  the  Arabs  were  enough  to  recommend  the  fel- 
lows to  a  circus.  **I  woke  up  one  night  and 
thought  I'd  been  touched,''  I  heard  one  say.  **In 
a  deep  voice  I  says,  *  Who 's  there  ? '    There  wasn  't 


THE  ADVANCE  53 

anything  movin'  so  I  thought  I'd  take  my  rifle  an' 
see  if  there  was  anything  up.  I  felt  under  me,  for 
I  was  sleepin'  on  the  thing,  but  it  wasn't  there. 
I  thought  mebbe  I'd  moved  in  my  sleep,  so  I  felt 
over  toward  my  chum  on  the  right  to  make  sure. 
By  mistake  I  stuck  my  hand  in  his  face  and  by  the 
variety  of  his  cussin'  I  knew  I  was  in  the  right 
place.  *Have  you  seen  my  grniV  1  says,  but  he 
hadn't  anything  more  to  say  about  the  blinkin' 
rifle  than  he  had  for  the  punch  in  the  face.  Then< 
all  of  a  sudden  he  let  out  a  shout  and  says, 
*  Where's  mine!'  We  knew  there  was  something 
up  then  an'  we  woke  up  the  rest  of  the  chaps. 
There  was  nine  of  us  in  the  tent  and  nine  rifles 
missing.  Most  of  us  had  'em  under  us  too.  We 
never  did  find  the  bally  loose-wallas." 

*  ^  Our  Brigade  Commander  was  peacefully  snor- 
ing in  his  tent  one  night,"  said  another,  **when 
suddenly  it  takes  legs  and  skoots  off  out  of  sight. 
The  loose-wallas  had  already  taken  all  his  kit 
and  uniform,  but  not  content  with  that  they  got 
away  with  his  blinkin'  tent,  poles  an'  all.  The 
General  never  woke  up.  Next  mornin'  he  was 
around  in  the  worn-out  duds  of  Captain  K . 


54     TO  BAGDAD  WITH  THE  BRITISH 

It  was  a  treat  to  see  him.  The  unifonn  fitted  him 
where  it  touched  him." 

I  can  easily  believe  any  story  I  may  hear  about 
the  Arabs  as  thieves  and  I  am  most  happy  that 
there  are  not  many  of  them  in  the  other  countries 
of  the  world.  During  the  year  I  was  among  them, 
there  was  plenty  of  proof  that  nothing  was  beyond 
the  sly  fellows.  Always  barefoot,  always  prowl- 
ing around,  they  seemed  to  have  as  part  of  their 
make-up  the  knack  of  getting  away  with  stolen 
goods.  I  do  not  wonder  that  the  people  of  Bag- 
dad believed  in  genii. 

The  Arabs  live  in  villages  that  disappear  as 
completely  as  the  things  they  steal.  Now  you  see 
them  and  now  you  don't.  The  river  never  gives 
them  a  chance  to  cultivate  the  land  without  going 
to  a  lot  of  trouble  and  it  is  easier  to  wander  and 
steal.  When  the  river  falls  they  have  to  pull  the 
water  up  in  goatskin  bags,  over  pulleys,  and  when 
the  river  is  in  flood  they  have  to  build  bunds  to 
save  their  scanty  crops.  So  most  of  them  give  it 
up,  live  on  cucumbers  and  a  kind  of  bread  made 
from  grain  that  will  grow  almost  anywhere,  and 
wander  with  their  sheep  and  what  cattle  they  may 


THE  ADVANCE  55 

have.  When  they  settle,  they  live  in  their  little 
mud  huts  or  tents  made  of  skin  and  whatever  can- 
vas they  can  get  from  stolen  tents;  and  when  it 
is  time  to  move,  pack  up  their  donkeys,  drive 
along  their  cattle  and  pitch  camp  somewhere  else. 

Every  time  they  wander  they  get  more  wild. 
The  men  gradually  drift  away  from  their  fam- 
ilies to  join  bands  that  go  in  for  robbery  on  a  large 
scale.  These  bands  kept  some  of  the  force  at 
Amara  busy  acting  as  posses.  If  there  was  a 
chance,  the  bands  would  break  through  the  line  of 
communication  along  the  river  and  attack  in  force 
some  slightly  isolated  camp.  A  small  detail  of 
mounted  troops  that  was  riding  outside  the  line  of 
communication,  one  night,  found  to  its  surprise 
that  it  was  being  surrounded  by  a  much  larger 
band  of  Arabs.  They  were  out  looking  for  Arabs, 
but  not  for  Arabs  in  such  force.  Luckily  they  got 
away  and  managed  to  do  a  little  damage  to  the 
Arabs.  They  escaped  terrible  punishment,  for  the 
bloodthirsty  Arabs  have  no  pity  on  the  victims 
who  fall  into  their  hands. 

The  time  was  not  far  off  when  the  fighting 
against  the  plundering  and  the  thieving  of  Arabs 


56     TO  BAGDAD  WITH  THE  BRITISH 

was  to  give  place  to  more  fighting  of  Turks.  The 
rmnor  of  a  move  from  Amara  to  Kut  was  grow- 
ing. There  were  Jews  from  Bagdad  in  Amara, 
who  through  some  mysterious  means,  received  the 
news  that  the  Turks  were  expecting  the  British 
to  make  a  stab  for  Bagdad.  They  said  confi- 
dentially that  the  British  had  better  hurry  up. 

To  take  Kut,  the  strong  Turkish  position  about 
a  hundred  miles  up  the  river  from  Amara,  ought 
to  mean  Bagdad.  If  the  Turks  could  be  routed  at 
Kut  they  could  be  kept  on  the  run  all  the  way. 
As  the  rumor  spread,  the  excitement  spread,  aud 
the  force  was  anxious  to  **get  on  with  it.'^  The 
thought  of  the  great  victories  at  Amara  and  Na- 
sarie  called  for  more  victories  like  them.  Every- 
one was  confident. 

Fiually  the  orders  came.  They  meant  Kut.  The 
weather  was  still  **hell,"  or  perhaps  worse. 
Thanks  to  the  cautiousness  of  the  Turks,  they  were 
far  up  the  river  in  good  positions.  There  was  no 
opposition  on  the  march  and  General  Townshend, 
at  the  head  of  the  force,  moved  slowly  toward  Kut. 
A  hasty  march,  those  sweltering  days  at  the  end 
of  August,  would  have  meant  hundreds  of  deaths 


THE  ADVANCE  57 

from  heat.  The  cooler  weather,  especially  in  the 
evenings  of  September,  was  a  big  relief.  There 
was  something  of  ^* fight''  in  the  air. 

On  one  of  those  fine  clear  twilights  that  come 
only  in  such  a  barren  country  as  Mesopotamia, 
the  force  was  encamped  four  miles  from  the 
Turks.  Seven  miles  farther  on  lay  Kut,  the  city 
that  controlled  the  Hai.  Between  the  first  line  of 
Turks  and  Kut  lay  miles  of  strong  trenches  on 
both  sides  of  the  river.  To  take  those  one  after 
another  seemed  an  impossible  task.  But  not  for  a 
strategist,  and  such  was  General  Townshend.  It 
appealed  to  the  red-blooded  fighter  who  had  had 
so  many  brilliant  victories  and  had  met  so  many 
difficult  situations,  always  with  the  same  indomi- 
table spirit.  Both  on  the  Nile  and  in  South  Africa 
Townshend  had  shown  himself  in  every  sense  a 
soldier  and  a  general.  Here  was  a  chance  he 
loved.  He  could  use  his  cavalry,  he  could  use  his 
sweeping  flank  attacks,  but  above  all  he  could  use 
his  head. 

In  his  camp,  now,  there  were  some  who  had  seen 
service  in  France.  The  war  had  been  going  on  for 
a  year  and  was  getting  to  be  an  old  story.    One 


58     TO  BAGDAD  WITH  THE  BRITISH 

man,  whom  I  afterward  met,  readied  the  Tigris 
front  about  the  time  of  the  march  to  Kut.  He  was 
still  fresh  enough  from  the  other  front  to  be  using 
the  expressions  that  are  common  parlance  in 
France  but  never  heard  of  in  Mesopotamia.  He 
often  complained  that  there  were  no  *^nice  farm 
houses,"  that  there  were  no  peasants  around  to 
try  his  French  on,  and  no  nice  ** barns''  for  billets. 
But  when  the  time  came  for  action  his  tune 
changed.  ^^I  thought  the  world  had  gone  back  on 
the  good  old  fighting,"  he  would  say,  **but  Mespot 
has  redeemed  it.  I  used  to  lie  awake  in  France 
thinking  of  the  fighting  of  the  old  days.  I  would 
doze  off  and  dream  of  a  wild  dash  across  a  bare 
battlefield! — a  rout  of  the  enemy — surrounding 
them — then  I  would  wake  up  in  a  sweat  to  find 
that  we  were  still  holding  the  same  bit  of  trench, 
that  we  still  had  no  rumor  of  a  move.  This  kind 
of  war  out  here  is  the  style.  My !  a  man  gets  a  real 
chance  here;  a  chance  to  use  his  head,  a  chance 
for  the  cleverest  kind  of  strategy.  I'd  stick  any 
kind  of  climate  for  this." 

Everyone  knew  that  the  General  would  find  a 
way  to  win.   Everyone  was  game.  Nothing  stirred 


THE  ADVANCE  59 

till  everything  was  ready.  Then  it  was  up  and 
away  like  a  shot.  Orders  said  to  proceed  across 
the  river  to  the  south  bank  and  attack  the  trenches 
there.  There  was  something  between  the  lines  of 
that  order.  Everyone  had  an  idea  what  it  might 
be.  Some  knew.  The  Turks  were  to  be  drawn 
over  to  the  southern  bank  by  a  feint  there.  The 
force  was  then  to  cross  back  to  the  north  bank  and 
attack  the  Turks  on  the  extreme  northern  flank. 
The  bridge  was  padded  with  mud  to  deaden  the 
sound. 

A  long  day's  bombardment  with  infantry  at- 
tacks on  the  south  bank  had  the  desired  effect. 
The  Turks  came  over.  During  the  night  came 
the  silent  crossing.  Every  ear  was  waiting  for 
reports  that  the  Turks  were  crossing  back  too. 
They  did  not  cross — the  feint  was  a  success.  The 
chance  at  the  flank  had  come  at  last.  It  was  bril- 
liant. The  cavalry  and  armored  cars  hit  it  as 
though  shot  out  of  a  cannon.  Next  to  them  came 
an  infantry  brigade.  The  rest  of  the  infantry 
attacked  nearer  the  river.  The  Turks  fought  well 
but  they  could  not  stand  that  onslaught.  Much  of 
their  strength  was  on  the  other  side  of  the  river. 


60     TO  BAGDAD  WITH  THE  BRITISH 

The  flank  collapsed.  Now,  behind  the  Turkish 
trenches  the  cavalry  made  for  the  river. 

Suddenly,  from  the  direction  of  Kut,  came 
enemy  reserves.  Without  a  moment's  hesitation 
the  infantry  and  cavalry  that  had  turned  the  flank 
made  for  the  oncoming  reserves.  It  was  midday 
of  the  second  day  of  continuous  fighting — and 
hot — but  on  they  went,  thirst  and  fatigue  entirely 
forgotten.  They  made  for  the  Turks  across  land 
as  open  and  flat  as  a  billiard  table.  Then  followed 
a  terrific  hand-to-hand  encounter.  It  was  stren- 
uous, ghastly — but  it  was  victorious.  The  Turk- 
ish force  cut  and  ran.  Kut-al-Amara  was  Town- 
shend's  prize. 

On  past  the  town  he  followed  the  fleeing  enemy. 
Not  till  he  was  halfway  to  Bagdad  did  he  stop  for 
rest.  Then  everyone  sat  down  to  think  a  while. 
Things  had  moved  very  rapidly.  It  was  time 
they  took  stock  of  the  situation.  Only  a  few 
months  before  the  little  force  at  Kuma  was  act- 
ing as  a  defense  of  the  Busra  territory  and  the  oil 
refinery.  Now  here  was  a  force  nearly  to  Bagdad. 
The  Turks  were  still  on  the  run. 

Before  long  General  Townshend  reported,  **I 


THE  ADVANCE  61 

consider  that  on  all  military  grounds  we  should 
consolidate  our  position  at  Kut. ' '  He  had  sent  his 
airplanes  ahead  and  had  found  out  the  strength 
of  the  Turks  in  Bagdad.  He  found  he  would  need 
a  larger  force  than  he  then  had  to  beat  them.  He 
was  keen  to  get  on  with  it  if  the  government 
wanted  it,  hut  felt  it  absolutely  necessary  to  have 
two  divisions  for  the  attack,  while  he  had  but  one, 
and  that  weakened  from  the  strenuous  fighting  it 
had  done  and  the  effects  of  the  summer  heat. 

At  any  rate  Kut  was  in  British  hands.  Both 
ends  of  the  river  Hai  were  out  of  the  hands  of 
Nur-ed-din.  Why  not  stay  at  Kut!  But  just  as 
Nasarie  led  to  Kut,  so  Kut  led  to  Bagdad.  There 
were  many  advantages  which  would  accrue  from 
the  capture  of  the  sacred  city.  It  would  mean  a 
heavy  blow  to  the  Turks  and  the  Germans,  with 
their  eyes  fixed  and  their  hearts  pinned  on  the 
Bagdad  railway  to  India  and  Egypt.  It  would 
mean  that  quantities  of  Arab  tribes  hitherto  loyal 
to  Turkey  would  come  over  to  loyalty  to  Great 
Britain,  the  new  protector  of  the  holy  city  of  Bag- 
dad.    It  would  influence  the  Arabs  in  western 


62     TO  BAGDAD  WITH  THE  BRITISH 

Arabia  who  were  revolting  against  the  rule  of  the 
Turks.  It  would  influence  the  Mohammedans  of 
India  and  Persia,  especially  those  of  the  Shiah 
sect,  and  would  bind  both  countries  still  closer  in 
sympathy  with  England.  It  would  mean  the  re- 
covery of  whatever  might  be  lost  in  influence 
among  the  eastern  peoples  as  a  whole  by  the 
bungle  at  the  Dardanelles.  It  would  mean  a  severe 
blow  to  the  armies  of  Turkey,  as  they  would  have 
to  give  up  any  attempts  to  advance  in  Persia 
or  toward  the  Suez  Canal. 

In  view  of  the  advantages  of  the  capture,  or 
even  of  an  attack  on  the  city,  especially  as  it  would 
effect  the  Dardanelles  talk,  the  extreme  cautious- 
ness of  the  home  government,  which  had  followed 
the  campaign  thus  far  as  a  sort  of  haunting 
shadow,  almost  entirely  disappeared. 

After  a  great  deal  of  discussion  between  the 
commander  on  the  field,  Sir  John  Nixon,  the 
Indian  government  and  the  home  government, 
that  government  sanctioned  the  advance  if  Gen- 
eral Nixon  felt  confident.  Of  course  he  felt  con- 
fident.    ** Audacity  had  accomplished  wonders; 


THE  ADVANCE  63 

was  there  any  limit  to  its  possibilities  f  In  view 
of  tlie  wonders  that  audacity  had  accomplished,  it 
would  be  hard  to  condemn  resorting  to  it  once 
again.  The  amount  of  transport,  boats  and  carts, 
was  frightfully  small.  But  if  everything  went 
well  there  were  enough  boats  for  the  advance. 
The  home  government  would  send  out  troops  to 
hold  Bagdad  when  once  it  was  taken.  One  more 
plunge,  a  plunge  *  *  on  into  Bagdad  at  the  heels  of 
the  rout,"  would  just  do  the  trick. 

But  unfortunately  the  Turkish  retreat  was  not 
a  rout.  While  the  British  force  was  encamped  at 
Azizie,  to  get  together  and  to  rest,  the  Turks  were 
intrenching  in  a  strong  position  nine  miles  farther 
on,  near  the  great  old  Arch  of  Persian  Ctesiphon. 
The  discussion  over  the  advance  had  now  con- 
sumed a  month.  With  the  order  to  advance,  the 
camp  broke  up  and  the  force  that  had  done  great 
things,  the  force  that  had  shown  the  greatest  pos- 
sible gallantry  and  doggedness  in  the  battles  of 
the  past  few  months,  set  out  resolutely,  confident 
in  its  commander,  again  to  meet  the  Turks,  this 
lime  to  fight  for  Bagdad. 


64     TO  BAGDAD  WITH  THE  BRITISH 

The  first  act  was  over.  It  had  been  splendid. 
Only  the  **  writing  on  the  waU'* — ^**A  safe  game 
must  be  played  in  Mesopotamia'' — gave  any  evi- 
dence that  the  second  act  might  be  less  happy. 


CHAPTEEIV 
TRAGEDY— ACT  II— THE  DISASTER 

Camp  was  pitched  at  Lajj,  nine  miles  away  from 
the  Turkish  first  line.  It  was  evening.  Against 
the  blood-red  sky  of  the  sunset  the  Arch  of  Ctesi- 
phon  stood  out  like  a  giant  boat  in  a  sunset  sea. 
That  old  relic  of  Sassanian  kings,  the  throne  of 
the  Chosroes,  whose  very  name  was  a  synonym 
of  regal  magnificence,  had  a  new  meaning  that 
night.  To  get  past  that  meant  to  get  Bagdad. 
All  the  glory  of  the  red  sky,  all  the  mystery  of 
tlie  ancient  arch,  conjured  up  weird  thoughts  of 
Bagdad,  the  royal  city.  Next  day  should  tell 
whether  the  great  old  city  of  the  Caliphs  was  to 
become  British  or  remain  a  mud  town  of  Turkish 
Pashas. 

During  the  night  the  force  broke  camp  and 
moved  toward  the  spot  where,  in  the  sunset  hours, 
had  appeared  that  ghastly  figure  of  the  arch.  It 
was  bitter  cold,  one  of  those  biting  November 

65 


66     TO  BAGDAD  WITH  THE  BRITISH 

nights,  and  the  thin  khaki  drill  was  little  pro- 
tection. There  was  little  sleep,  even  during  the 
hours  of  rest.  The  Turks  were  keeping  their  fires 
burning  all  night.  Why,  no  one  knew.  Morning 
found  most  of  the  force  in  nullas  or  dried  water 
channels.  They  were  protections  from  the  eyes 
of  the  Turks  at  least,  if  not  from  their  shells.  The 
cold  of  the  night  and  the  loss  of  sleep  had  added 
only  a  few  shivers  to  the  excitement.  The  tension 
was  terrific.  Victory  meant  that  big  arch.  That 
would  mean  Bagdad.    It  was  so  near  now. 

Think  of  it — Bagdad!  I  have  never  been  sure 
what  there  is  about  Bagdad  which  appeals  so  to 
us  all.  I  suppose  anything  with  a  touch  of  royalty 
still  makes  our  hearts  beat  faster,  even  in  this 
democracy  of  ours.  Then,  too,  Bagdad  has  come 
near  to  us  all  in  the  tales  of  the  *^  Arabian 
Nights."  But  other  names,  of  places  we  do  not 
know  at  all,  have  the  same  sort  of  appeal.  Man- 
dalay,  for  instance,  by  its  very  sound,  when  put 
into  all  kinds  of  poems  and  songs,  makes  them 
popular. 

The  orders  came.  There  was  a  great  scramb- 
ling out  of  the  trenches  and  nullas.    Then  a  halt. 


THE  DISASTER  67 

anotlier  advance,  then  a  halt — ^a  wait  for  some- 
thing. It  was  not  long  in  coming.  It  came  in 
torrents,  machine  gun  fire,  rifle  bullets  and  shells. 
There  seemed  to  be  a  million  guns  concealed  some- 
where. Then  the  advance  continued.  The  British 
artillery  was  now  making  itself  felt.  Over  toward 
the  right  a  mound  in  Turkish  territory  was  get- 
ting a  few  of  the  shells.  It  churned  up  like  a 
stream  under  a  waterfall.  The  whole  line  was 
nearing  the  Turks'  first  line  of  trenches.  One 
after  another,  the  units  reached  the  fire  trench  and 
the  Turks  who  got  out  found  themselves  cut  off 
by  a  rain  of  shells.  In  some  places  they  had  fired 
all  they  thought  best,  nor  did  they  run.  They 
were  just  *  *not  having  any. ''  They  stood  in  their 
trenches  waiting  to  be  taken  prisoners  though 
strenuously  opposed  to  getting  out.  That  might 
mean  one  of  their  own  men's  bullets  in  the  back. 
They  were  soon  out,  however,  and  under  guard, 
minus  their  rifles.  Then  it  was  up  and  over  for 
the  second  line.  Some  had  not  stopped  at  all  at 
the  first  line  and  were  halfway  to  the  second.  The 
Turks  were  covering  the  *^ getaway''  to  the  second 
line  by  an  army  of  snipers  who  kept  a  rain  of  bul- 


68     TO  BAGDAD  WITH  THE  BRITISH 

lets  whizzing  over  the  ground  toward  the  relin- 
quished trench.  Flat  on  the  ground  Tommy  and 
Sepoy  rained  bullets  back.  Then  the  screen  of 
snipers  broke  for  the  distant  trench.  Up  and 
after  the  second  trench  went  the  British.  It  was 
great.  Two  miles  to  the  second  line  seemed  noth- 
ing at  all.  A  few  of  the  troops  got  all  the  way. 
The  second  line  was  being  taken.  Then  a  halt. 
Back  to  a  part  of  the  first  line.  Now  there  was 
disorder,  Tommies,  Ghurkas,  Sikhs  all  in  together 
firing  frantically  over  the  top  of  the  trench.  The 
mules  were  almost  all  killed.  Ammunition  had  to 
be  brought  on  men's  shoulders.  It  was  getting 
low,  besides. 

A  big  Sikh,  with  his  long  black  beard  and  side 
whiskers  twisted  up  and  tucked  under  his  turban, 
was  putting  in  his  last  charge.  His  eyes  were 
blazing  with  excitement.  He  would  make  the  last 
one  count.  He  looked  over  the  top  and  watched 
for  a  target  for  his  last  bit  of  lead.  '*Duck,  you 
blinkin'  idiot,''  shouted  a  Tommy  next  to  him — 
but  he  might  have  spoken  Yiddish  for  all  the  good 
his  cockney  English  did  the  Sikh.  Bang !  went  his 
rifle.    Almost  the  same  instant  he  slid  down  in  a 


THE  DISASTER  69 

heap.  He  had  looked  too  long.  He  was  killed 
outright,  so  there  was  nothing  to  be  done  but  leave 
him.  The  wounded  were  being  taken  to  a  deep 
trench  of  the  captured  first  line.  The  troops  were 
coming  back  from  the  Turks  to  the  first  line  again. 
Orders  came  for  all  wounded  who  could  walk  to 
**get  out  of  it."  Things  looked  bad.  Now  more 
of  the  force  was  back  in  the  captured  first-line 
trenches.    It  was  a  check. 

Night  came  and  all  the  wounded  that  could  find 
room  in  the  iron  Army  Transport  carts  were  going 
back  to  the  river.  Next  day  there  was  a  fierce 
counter  attack  by  the  Turks.  They  wanted  to  get 
back  to  their  first  line  again.  The  wounded  who 
were  still  in  the  trenches  were  placed  in  a  deep 
trench  to  wait  for  carts  to  take  them  away.  All 
during  the  next  day  the  firing  grew  more  intense. 
The  Turks  came  nearer.  The  shells  and  bullets 
were  raining  all  around  the  trench  where  the 
wounded  were  bundled  together.  A  shell  there 
would  inflict  awful  execution. 

Even  in  the  midst  of  the  rain  of  bullets  some 
of  the  wounded  started  on  the  long  painful  hike 
to  the  river,  twelve  miles  away,  rather  than  stay 


70     TO  BAGDAD  WITH  THE  BRITISH 

in  that  hole.  There  was  danger  now  of  a  flank 
attack  by  the  Turks,  but  the  good  old  British  cav- 
alry was  too  much  for  that.  Into  the  night  the 
firing  continued.  Finally  it  died  down.  The  at- 
tack was  beaten  off.  There  was  a  sigh  of  relief, 
especially  from  the  trench  where  the  wounded 
were  still  lying,  huddled  together  in  all  sorts  of 
cramped  positions 

It  was  the  first  chance  to  breathe  a  deep  breath 
in  peace  since  they  had  been  put  in  there.  Some 
of  the  finer  spirits  saw  a  bright  side  to  the  pre- 
dicament. **I  hain't  moved  f 'r  a  'ole  day.  Mebbe 
I  won't  know  'ow  when  I  get  a  chance,"  said  one 
who  was  sitting  with  his  knees  tucked  under  his 
chin  and  a  big  bandage  around  his  chest.  An- 
other, recognizing  a  pal  not  far  away,  called  out, 
^*Eh !  Bert,  next  time  you  fall  asleep  in  here,  don't 
snore  so  loud.  Ye  might  draw  a  shell  your  way. ' ' 
However  the  wounds  may  have  hurt,  there  was 
never  a  murmur  as  the  men  waited  for  the  carts 
to  come  to  take  them  to  the  river  and  then  to  com- 
fort. 

Next  day  brought  another  attack,  but  not  so 
ferocious.    During  the  day  most  of  the  wounded 


THE  DISASTER  71 

got  away  to  the  boats  on  the  river.  It  was  a  queer- 
looking  march,  the  wounded  struggling  over  the 
twelve  miles  to  the  river.  There  were  iron  carts 
for  the  more  serious  cases  and  in  each  cart  were 
one  stretcher  case  and  two  or  three  sitting  cases. 
The  carts  jounced  along  over  the  rough  ground,, 
hitting  the  wounded  together,  throwing  some  out 
to  have  to  crawl  the  rest  of  the  way  themselves. 
Once  in  a  while  the  carts  had  to  cross  nullas  or 
dip  a  wheel  in  a  shell  hole,  and  the  occupants 
would  stiffen  and  grit  their  teeth  as  they  were 
jostled  together,  their  wounds  getting  blows  and 
being  pressed.  The  Indian  Drabbles  drove  as 
carefully  as  they  could,  but  with  bullets  whizzing 
around,  horses  and  mules  being  shot,  and  the 
ground  as  irregular  as  a  newly  plowed  field,  it  was 
hard  to  make  the  travel  easy  in  these  improvised 
hospital  carts.  Bare  iron  or  even  iron  with  a 
layer  of  straw  offers  little  spring.  In  some  of  the 
carts,  as  a  last  resort,  they  used  for  mattresses 
the  bodies  of  men  that  had  been  killed. 

At  last,  for  most,  the  journey  was  at  an  end. 
There  at  the  river  were  several  river  boats  and 
barges.    They  were  going  down  the  river  all  the 


72     TO  BAGDAD  WITH  THE  BRITISH 

time,  taking  what  wounded  they  could  hold.  But 
there  were  not  nearly  enough  for  the  crowds  of 
wounded  and  prisoners  to  go  comfortably.  And 
they  were  getting  away  only  just  in  time.  Next 
day  the  force  had  to  retreat.  The  Turks,  re- 
enforced  from  Bagdad,  were  getting  around  to 
the  right.  There  was  nothing  for  it  but  to  fall 
back.  The  dash  for  Bagdad  was  over.  All  the 
hopes  of  a  victorious  force  were  shattered.  The 
retreat  was  started.  Bagdad  must  remain  a  mud 
town  of  a  Turkish  Pasha. 

The  hope  of  trying  again  was  by  no  means  given 
up,  but  just  then  the  one  necessity  was  to  get  away 
from  the  Turks.  It  was  a  great  feat,  that  retreat. 
Fighting  rearguard  actions  continually,  the  force 
had  to  move  slowly  enough  to  protect  the  flotilla 
of  river  boats  which  had  to  go  around  the  long 
bends  of  the  tortuous  river.  The  river  was  low 
and  the  banks  at  the  bends  were  veritable  traps. 
Under  the  circumstances,  getting  aground  on  that 
river  was  much  to  be  avoided.  The  armed  tug 
Sumana  came  to  a  sharp  turn  to  the  right.  The 
bow  nosed  round  in  mid-stream.  The  stem  shot 
around  like  a  top,  with  the  swift  current  behind  it, 


THE  DISASTER  73 

toward  the  bank.  *^Full  speed  astern!"  came  the 
order  from  the  skipper  to  the  engineer  below.  The 
pilot  swung  the  wheel  far  to  the  port  and  the  stern 
shot  by  the  bank.  **  Missed  it  by  a  foot — good 
work,  captain,''  shouted  one  of  the  wounded  offi- 
cers who  were  being  carried  as  emergency  pas- 
sengers on  the  tug.  The  stern  churned  up  a  boil- 
ing, surging  eddy  of  muddy  water  as  it  passed 
the  bank  and  the  next  minute  the  incident  was  for- 
gotten in  the  anxiety  over  the  next  turn  in  the 
river. 

Down  at  Kut  the  medical  officers  and  staffs  were 
straining  every  nerve  in  their  efforts  to  get  ac- 
commodations ready  for  the  large  number  of 
wounded  that  were  on  their  way  down.  Word 
came  down  the  river  that  3,000  were  on  the  way. 
In  Kut  there  was  accommodation  for  about  a  quar- 
ter of  that  number.  But  perhaps  the  number  was  a 
mistake.  They  began  to  come  in  and  there  was  a 
continual  struggle  to  land  the  boats,  carry  off  the 
wounded,  house  them  and  feed  them.  The  pris- 
oners were  coming  down  too,  and  they  had  to  be 
taken  care  of.  Then  came  at  once  two  terrible 
reports.    One  was  that  everything  that  would  not 


74     TO  BAGDAD  WITH  THE  BRITISH 

help  in  a  siege  should  be  sent  out  of  Kut,  the 
other  that  there  was  a  break  in  the  line  of  com- 
munications to  the  south  and  danger  of  an 
Arab  attack  on  Kut.  That  seemed  the  last  straw. 
Already  everyone  was  working  overtime  on  the 
business  of  taking  care  of  the  wounded.  Now 
everyone  that  could  possibly  carry  a  gun  must 
get  out  and  be  ready  for  an  attack.  Many  of  the 
active  units  were  helping  with  the  convoys  of 
wounded.  Now  they  must  be  ready  to  defend  the 
town.  The  wounded  were  again  packed  on  boats 
and  started  down  the  river.  They  had  a  disheart- 
ening voyage.  When  they  were  a  dozen  miles 
from  Kut  the  boats  stopped.  Someone  had  seen 
a  hostile  band  of  Arabs  around  the  bend.  There 
they  were,  sure  enough,  entrenched  near  the  bank, 
like  so  many  Turks.  Having  no  means  of  fighting 
the  Arabs,  the  boats  returned  to  Kut.  The  next 
trip  the  boats  were  accompanied  by  an  escort,  a 
gun  boat  and  some  infantry.  On  the  decks  of  the 
convoy  were  embankments  of  kit  bags,  blankets, 
boxes  and  anything  else  that  could  be  found  to 
protect  from  bullets  the  wounded  lying  on  the 
decks. 


THE  DISASTER  75 

This  time  the  boats  got  through.  The  wounded 
were  safe,  hut  still  crowded  together  and  uncom- 
fortable on  the  decks  of  the  boats  and  barges.  At 
Amara  something  happened  which  made  all  the 
difference.  The  Y.  M.  C.  A.  was  started  now 
along  the  Tigris  and  some  of  its  members  at 
Amara  came  aboard  the  boats  with  hot  mutton- 
head  soup,  warm  comforts,  and  fags.  **By  gum! 
— that's  the  spirit,"  was  the  unanimous  approval 
of  the  wounded  men.  The  secretaries  received 
more  **  Thank  you's''  from  those  men  than  they 
had  ever  had  before. 

With  the  escort  gone  the  danger  of  Arab  attack 
on  Kut  was  now  all  the  greater.  There  seemed 
to  be  nobody  left  to  defend  the  place.  The  re- 
treating force  was  coming  nearer  the  town  in 
which  it  would  stand.  The  monitors  Comet  and 
Firefly  ran  aground  and  had  to  be  left.  The  trans- 
fer of  crews  had  to  be  done  imder  fire.    Skipper 

E of  the  Firefly  stood  on  the  bridge  doing 

everything  possible  to  get  the  boat  off  the  mud. 
Bullets  whizzed  all  around  him;  one  copped  him 
in  the  arm.  The  boat  still  stuck  and  had  to  be 
left  to  the  Turks.    On  down  the  river  the  force 


76     TO  BAGDAD  WITH  THE  BRITISH 

continued,  the  rear  guard  halting  now  and  then  to 
dig  in  and  beat  back  an  attack  by  an  advanced 
Turkish  force. 

The  Turks  made  a  last  desperate  attack  on  the 
first  day  of  December.  A  large  part  of  the  force 
caught  up  with  General  Townshend's  rear  guard. 
The  attack  was  too  strong  for  a  little  guard  to 
handle,  and  nearly  all  Townshend^s  army  had  to 
right  about  and  beat  them  back.  But  this  was  the 
last  attack.  The  Turks  were  **all  in"  and  could 
go  no  farther.  That  day  the  last  of  the  wounded 
had  to  be  got  out  of  the  town  of  Kut.  Packed  so 
closely  they  could  not  move,  on  any  kind  of  boat 
that  could  be  found,  they  went  down  the  river. 

Two  days  later  General  Townshend  and  his 
force  reached  the  fateful  town.  The  cavalry  and 
whatever  else  could  be  of  more  use  below  went 
down  stream.  Preparations  were  made  to  hold 
the  town  until  a  relief  force  could  be  sent  up  the 
river,  and  then — well,  Bagdad  was  not  forgotten. 
A  thing  worth  starting  is  worth  finishing.  It 
was  not  the  time  to  ask  whether  it  were  worth 
starting.  It  had  been  started.  It  was  now  the 
duty  of  the  force  to  finish  it. 


THE  DISASTER  77 

By  the  seventh  of  December  the  Turks  were 
surrounding  the  town  of  Kut  and  the  investment 
began.  Next  day  a  message  came  across  the  lines 
that  Nur-ed-din  called  on  Townshend  to  surren- 
der. Some  shells  served  as  a  refusal.  The  Turks 
returned  the  message  with  more  shells.  Enraged 
at  the  audacity  of  Townshend  in  settling  in  the 
town  the  Turks  bombarded  furiously  for  the  next 
few  days.  On  the  twelfth,  not  satisfied  with  bom- 
barding, they  attempted  to  take  the  place  by  storm. 
They  must  have  lost  over  a  thousand  in  the  attack. 
Still  Townshend  held  on,  and  would  hold  on  till 
relief  came.  Christmas  came  and  another  attack 
from  the  Turks.  All  Christmas  morning  the 
troops  on  the  front  north  of  the  city  were  beating 
the  Turks  out  of  a  bastion  they  had  stormed  the 
night  before.  By  the  time  the  new  year  came  the 
Turks  were  convinced  that  Townshend  was  in  Kut 
to  stay.  Indeed  he  was.  And  his  men  were  all 
behind  him  whatever  might  happen. 

Before  long  word  came  that  the  relieving  force 
was  on  its  way  and  that  it  was  meeting  with 
marked  success.  **The  relief  force  attacked  the 
Turks  at  Sheikh  Saad,  fifty  miles  east  of  Kut,  and 


78     TO  BAGDAD  WITH  THE  BRITISH 

drove  them  back  after  a  very  stubborn  fight  under 
bad  conditions  of  weather.  Sir  Percy  Lake  is  now 
in  command  of  the  relief  force.  General  Nixon 
has  relinquished  command  on  account  of  ill 
health.''  So  read  some  scribbling  on  a  sheet  of 
paper  stuck  up  on  the  door  of  one  of  the  billets. 

The  relief  force  was  not  the  only  force  to  feel 
the  effects  of  mud.  Kut  was  a  veritable  quagmire. 
Things  were  beginning  to  go  badly.  The  rations 
were  getting  low.  There  were  a  number  of  sick 
in  with  the  wounded  in  the  hospital.  Worst  of  all, 
the  hospital  seemed  to  be  in  a  most  exposed  posi- 
tion for  the  Turkish  shells  to  hit.  Still  it  rained, 
still  the  river  rose,  still  the  rations  decreased,  still 
the  wood  of  the  houses  went  for  firewood,  still  the 
guns  of  the  relief  force  were  far,  far  away — ^but 
still  there  was  hope  of  Bagdad.  **  Bagdad  for 
Christmas''  was  a  thing  of  the  past.  But  ** Bag- 
dad when  relieved"  took  its  place.  Time,  how- 
ever, wore  even  this  down  to  nothing  and  all  that 
anyone  dreamed  of  was  relief,  perhaps  to  be  sent 
down  the  river. 

During  January,  rations  went  down  to  half  and 
there  was  talk  of  eating  horses  and  mules.    Yet 


THE  DISASTER  79 

the  spirit  of  the  force  stayed  high.  *^I  am  abso- 
lutely calm  and  confident  as  to  the  result.  .  .  . 
We  will  succeed — ^mark  my  words ! — but  save  your 
ammunition  as  if  it  were  gold/'  said  General 
Townshend  in  a  communique  to  all  troops  on  Jan- 
uary 26.  February  failed  to  bring  relief.  March 
came.  On  March  10  another  communique  from 
General  Townshend  said,  **In  order  then  to  hold 
out,  I  am  killing  a  large  number  of  horses  so  as  to 
reduce  the  quantity  of  grain  eaten  every  day,  and 
I  have  had  to  reduce  your  ration. ' '  And  to  think 
that  once  they  had  been  nearly  to  Bagdad,  the 
center  of  the  food  supply  of  Mesopotamia ! 

The  relieving  force  was  not  concerned  about 
Bagdad.  In  the  awful  conditions  of  fighting  in 
mud  that  was  so  slippery  one  could  hardly  walk, 
in  floods  that  filled  up  the  trenches  and  made  life, 
not  to  speak  of  fighting,  well-nigh  impossible,  the 
hope  of  getting  to  Kut  seemed  about  as  far  away 
as  that  of  getting  to  Bagdad.  Every  mishap  that 
could  come  from  nature  came  to  that  relief  force. 
Rain  would  have  been  bad  enough,  but  mud  and 
then  the  river  in  flood  were  too  much  for  any  force 
to  fight  through. 


80     TO  BAGDAD  WITH  THE  BRITISH 

Yet  slowly  plowing  through  the  mud  the  force 
got  to  within  a  few  miles  of  Kut.  In  the  evening 
the  flashes  of  Townshend's  guns  might  be  easily 
seen.  There  was  more  hope.  **We'll  get  to 
them,''  was  the  feeling.  But  time  was  passing 
rapidly  and  starvation  waits  for  no  man. 

The  indifference  about  Bagdad  had  now 
changed  to  fear.  Suppose  they  should  all  be  pris- 
oners of  war?  That  might  mean  Bagdad,  or 
Mosul,  or  some  lonely  mountain  stronghold  in  the 
Taurus  mountains,  away  up  in  Asia  Minor.  That 
would  be  no  place  for  a  white  man.  Rations  were 
getting  very  low.  There  was  almost  nothing — 
no  sugar,  no  milk,  no  vegetables,  no  eggs,  no  but- 
ter. The  hospital  patients  fared  little  better — 
perhaps  a  little  milk  and  a  few  beans.  For  the 
rest  a  few  dates,  a  little  jam,  some  horse  meat  or 
mule  meat  and  Arab  bread.  This  was  the  issue. 
Take  it  or  leave  it.  There  was  nothing  else.  In- 
dians would  crawl  into  their  blankets  for  the  night 
but  never  wake  up.  The  nourishment  was  not 
enough  to  keep  them  going  in  their  sleep.  The 
roofs  of  all  the  buildings  had  gone  for  firewood 
and  now  the  wood  was  scarce.    It  seemed  only  a 


THE  DISASTER  81 

matter  of  days.  The  airplanes  were  doing  their 
best  to  drop  **eats"  but  it  was  impossible  to  sup- 
ply the  demand. 

Spring  weather  was  setting  in  and  the  town  was 
more  livable.  There  was  hope  in  the  clear  air. 
One  night  there  came  a  rumor  which  set  the  whole 
garrison  in  a  blaze  of  excitement.  The  paddle 
boat,  Julnar,  was  running  the  blockade  with  food. 
All  night  long  the  garrison  listened  for  the  chug 
of  an  engine,  or  the  whisper  of  a  hopeful  rumor. 
Could  it  succeed?  Would  it  mean  perhaps  some 
good  bread,  or  even  just  a  taste  of  meat  and  vege- 
tables ?  There  was  heavy  firing  from  down  stream. 
Then  silence.  That  was  a  long,  long  night.  At 
daybreak  the  story  reached  Kut.  Down  the 
stream  by  the  Turkish  fort  at  Margasis  lay  the  lit- 
tle craft,  aground,  aad  its  valiant  commander 
lying  on  the  bridge  in  a  pool  of  his  own  blood. 

That  was  the  end.  Everyone  knew  it.  Three 
more  days  of  **  sticking  if  mingled  with  prepa- 
rations to  get  out,  and  the  surrender  was  an  ac- 
complished fact.  One  hundred  and  forty-three 
days  the  siege  had  lasted.  It  was  a  new  record. 
Now  it  did  mean  Bagdad.    But  to  go  to  Bagdad 


82     TO  BAGDAD  WITH  THE  BRITISH 

as  prisoners  of  the  Turks !  It  was  bitter.  There 
was  hope  that  the  force  might  be  paroled.  The 
Turkish  commander  was  in  favor  of  it,  so  valiant 
had  been  the  stand.  But  orders  from  Constan- 
tinople, or  more  likely  from  Berlin,  said  no.  And 
no  it  was. 

A  certain  number  of  wounded  were  to  be 
allowed  to  go  to  India  in  exchange  for  Turkish 
prisoners.  I  do  not  wonder  the  Turks  did  not  care 
for  the  men  they  sent  to  India.  I  have  seen  the 
results  of  famine  in  India,  but  never  have  I  seen 
such  specimens  of  bone  with  a  little  skin  over  it  as 
among  those  men.  The  Turkish  medical  officers 
were  to  decide  who  should  go.  It  was  an  anxious 
time  for  the  men  under  inspection.  Bagdad  had 
lost  all  its  charms  now.  Even  the  worst  sickness 
would  be  welcome  if  it  could  save  one  from  going 
to  that  place  as  a  prisoner.  The  officers  looked 
over  all  the  cases  very  carefully,  taking  tempera- 
tures, examining,  deciding. 

Each  man  with  a  light  case  went  through  those 
minutes  as  though  they  were  years.  ^^Busra'' 
meant  India,  perhaps  ** Blighty.''  ** Bagdad" 
meant — ^what  might  it  mean  to  be  taken  care  of 


THE  DISASTER  83 

by  Turks,  with  their  ancient  methods  of  living  and 
sanitation,  to  be  treated  as  a  prisoner  in  the  town 
the  Turks  were  gloating  over?  The  fate  of  one 
man,  with  an  attack  of  fever,  was  being  weighed 
in  the  balance.  It  was  pitiful.  But  he  would  not 
look  ^^pitifuP'  in  the  face  of  a  conqueror.  He 
would  keep  on  the  face  of  a  fighter  and  like  a  man 
would  *' stick"  whatever  might  come  rather  than 
let  a  Turk  conqueror  see  a  sign  of  weakness.  In- 
side he  wanted  to  be  taken  for  sick  and  **  pretty 
seedy,''  but  still  farther  inside  was  that  determi- 
nation to  win,  no  matter  what  the  consequences. 
He  stared  the  officer  right  in  the  eye  as  he  looked 
him  over.  He  would  be  slave  to  no  one.  The 
decision  came.  It  was  ** Bagdad.''  The  sick  man 
never  moved  a  muscle.  Inside  somewhere  he  had 
a  queer  feeling.  There  was  victory  for  hiin  be- 
yond ordinary  victory.  But  when  the  officer 
passed  on,  his  lip  quivered  a  little  and  he  lay  look- 
ing sadly  ahead,  thinking  very  hard. 

A  few  days  later  some  boats  were  bearing  to 
their  destination  the  British  sick  and  wounded 
slated  for  ** Bagdad."  The  Turks  treated  them 
well  enough  and  the  food  certainly  tasted  good* 


84     TO  BAGDAD  WITH  THE  BRITISH 

The  awful  feeling  of  surrender  was  soon  dimmed. 
Once  in  a  while  a  Turkish  medical  officer  stopped 
to  talk  to  a  Britisher,  to  congratulate  him  on  the 
way  the  force  stood  the  siege  and  to  wish  him  a 
quick  recovery.  There  was  no  use  now  in  being 
disagreeable  about  it.  The  trouble  was  all  over 
and  one  might  as  well  be  friendly  with  his  new 
neighbors. 

Slowly  the  boats  pushed  past  the  scenes  of  the 
campaign  of  a  few  months  before.  Then  came  that 
old  Arch  of  Ctesiphon  and  there  were  thoughts 
conjured  up  by  that  which  beat  anything  its  own 
history  could  have  to  tell.  There  were  thoughts 
of  the  day  of  frantic  fighting  when  the  trenches 
in  front  of  it  changed  hands — but  changed  hands 
twice.  There  were  few  remarks  aloud.  But  the 
thoughts  that  filled  the  mind  of  everyone  who 
watched  the  shore  were  thoughts  of  a  victory  al- 
most won,  of  a  crown  almost  gained.  There  was 
a  lump  in  the  throat  of  many  a  Tommy  as  he  went 
slowly  by  that  desert  scene.  There  was  not  a  man 
that  cared  whether  or  not  the  boat  went  on  to  Bag- 
dad now.    Bagdad  had  nothing  in  it  for  him. 

Slowly  the  boats  approached.    The  palm  groves 


THE  DISASTER  85 

in  the  distance  showed  where  the  fertile  city 
region  started.  Around  another  bend  and  the 
minarets  were  in  sight.  Was  that  the  city  of  the 
'* Arabian  Nights,"  of  glory,  of  grandeur,  of 
riches?  Nearer  and  nearer  moved  the  boats  and 
the  buildings  became  distinguishable.  It  looked 
something  like  Amara. — ^but  no — Amara  was  Brit- 
ish. Here  was  the  city  of  Bagdad,  a  city,  not  of 
Aladdin,  not  of  Haroun-al-RascJiid — a  city,  not  the 
prize  of  English  victory,  just  a  city  of  the  Turks. 


CHAPTER  V 
WRITING  A  NEW  PLAY— "ON  TO  BAGDAD" 

The  curtain  fell.  A  heartbroken  world  watched 
it  go  down  and  turned  away,  eyes  dimmed  with 
tears.  Poor  General  Townshendl  No.  Brave 
General  Townshend !  and  brave  the  men  that  stuck 
by  him  to  the  end!  It  was  through  no  fault  of 
theirs  that  they  had  to  surrender.  Theirs  was  the 
cross,  and  they  bore  it  without  a  word.  It  took 
courage,  during  those  last  days,  to  hold  out  and 
say,  **We  will  not  surrender,"  when  the  relief 
force  was  failing  and  everything  in  the  little  be- 
sieged town  was  going  badly.  Only  sheer  will 
power  could  make  General  Townshend  stick  at  it 
— ^but  will  power  he  had,  not  only  over  himself 
but  over  his  men. 

There  were  Turkish  regulars  and  Kurdish 
troops  fighting  around  Kut,  holding  Townshend 
in  and  keeping  the  relief  force  out.  Those  troops 
that  had  to  be  there  to  fight  for  the  masters  of 

86 


A  NEW  PLAY  87 

Turkey  might  have  been  doing  a  far  more  deadly 
work  in  another  part  of  the  world,  helping  in  the 
attempt  to  get  down  through  Palestine  to  the  Suez 
Canal,  or  fighting  their  way  through  Persia.  Dur- 
ing the  days  of  the  battle  against  the  relief  force 
the  Turks  lost  their  city  of  Erzerum.  It  is  im- 
possible to  tell  how  great  good  may  have  come 
from  the  sacrifice  of  Townshend. 

Then,  too,  what  might  follow!  Kitchener  and 
the  Nile  Campaign  followed  the  sacrifice  of  Gen- 
eral Gordon  at  Khartum.  At  the  death  of  Gor- 
don, Khartum  and  nearly  all  the  Nile  became  the 
province  of  the  crazy  Mahdi,  but  that  black  page 
in  English  history  was  wiped  clean  when  Kitch- 
ener led  his  splendid  Anglo-Egyptian  army  into 
the  city  of  Khartum.  Perhaps  another  Kitchener 
would  come  to  Kut — and  Bagdad. 

That  was  the  problem  for  the  ** producers''  in 
London.  On  the  stage  the  curtain  was  down  and 
the  players  were  through.  The  first  Mesopotamia 
show  was  at  an  end.  But  the  producers  at  the 
War  Office  in  London  were  not  through  by  any 
means.  They  must  find  a  new  Kitchener  to  send 
out  as  hero  of  a  new  show,  a  drama  with  an  ending 


88     TO  BAGDAD  WITH  THE  BRITISH 

as  happy  as  the  first  had  been  sad.  The  tragedy 
had  served  a  purpose  but  a  comedy  would  serve  a 
far  greater.  If  the  deserts  made  a  good  stage  for 
tragedy  they  ought  to  make  a  good  stage  for  com- 
edy. The  drops  at  the  back  of  the  stage  had  made 
picturesque  scenery,  the  rows  of  palms,  the  grace- 
ful Arab  boats,  the  crescent  moon  hanging  jaunt- 
ily in  the  brilliant  Eastern  sky,  the  white  build- 
ings, the  odd  people  in  their  ancient  dress.  And 
there  had  been  no  Bagdad.  With  the  domes  and 
palaces  and  palms  of  Bagdad  added  to  the  scen- 
ery, the  stage  would  indeed  be  wonderful. 

With  the  British  the  protagonists,  and  the 
Turks  the  antagonists  there  were  tremendous  pos- 
sibilities for  action  gradually  rising  till  the  Turks 
should  be  rushed  up  the  river  to  their  sacred  city 
as  fast  as  the  British  had  been  rushed  to  Kut. 
It  must  be  so!  It  must  be  soon!  Send  out  a 
Kitchener  hero  and  more  men  and  equipment  and 
above  all  cut  out  the  mistakes — that  was  the  task 
that  lay  before  the  producers,  the  War  Office. 

**Cut  out  the  mistakes.*'  It  echoed  the  old 
order  from  London  that  had  been  like  the  writing 
on  the  wall  during  the  first  campaign,  **A  safe 


A  NEW  PLAY  89 

game  must  be  played  in  Mesopotamia."  Every- 
one felt  it.  Everyone  showed  he  had  had  a  part 
in  making  the  mistakes.  ^*A  safe  game  must  be 
played  in  Mesopotamia.''  It  was  like  the  ghost 
of  Julius  Caesar,  like  that  apparition  that  comes 
to  a  man  who  has  committed  murder  and  takes 
him  back  to  the  scene.  It  brought  post  mortems. 
The  ghost  would  out.  In  the  deserted  house  of 
Mesopotamia  the  ghost  began  to  prowl.  ^*A  safe 
game/'  it  said,  and  disappeared  to  see  whether 
anyone  was  conscience-stricken.  Again,  **A  safe 
game."  It  seemed  as  though  everybody  felt  re- 
sponsible for  the  mistakes.  Everybody  saw  the 
bogey.  The  strain  grew  too  great.  With  one  ac- 
cord the  cry  came,  **Who  was  to  blame?" 

The  Royal  Commission  that  in  August,  1916, 
began  the  inquiry  into  that  question  has  now  come, 
reported  and  gone.  All  connected  with  the  affair 
have  been  found  responsible  *' according  to  their 
relative  and  respective  positions."  Sir  John 
Nixon  was  found  most  responsible  because  of  his 
*  *  confident  optimism. ' '  But  everyone  had  a  share 
in  the  bungle.  The  hero.  General  Townshend, 
who   advised  against  the   advance,  alone   stood 


90     TO  BAGDAD  WITH  THE  BRITISH 

above  blame  on  that  score.  Townshend  had  the 
choice  of  obeying  or  getting  out.  He  chose  as  a 
real  soldier  must.  Some  were  found  to  blame  for 
misstatements ;  some  knew  things  they  did  not  tell. 
Some  had  used  poor  judgment.  Some  had  been 
ambitious.  Some  had  had  fears  and  had  been  too 
reticent.  Some  had  seen  the  chance  to  grasp  at  a 
possible  straw  and  had  grasped.  Some  had  been 
just  careless.    Many  had  been  overworked. 

But  there  was  other  work  to  be  done  beside  in- 
quiring into  the  faults  of  the  past.  The  important 
work  now  was  to  get  along  with  the  new  show  and 
forget  the  old.  The  ghost  was  only  beginning  to 
prowl  with  its  **cut  out  the  mistakes''  when  the 
producers  and  actors  were  getting  ready  for  the 
new  show.  On  the  stage  Sir  Percy  Lake  was  lay- 
ing a  foundation  for  new  operations,  beginning 
with  the  base  and  reorganizing  the  entire  situ- 
ation. The  forces  in  the  trenches  to  which  they 
had  advanced  in  the  attempt  to  relieve  Townshend 
remained  where  they  were,  advancing  only  a  little 
along  the  south  bank  of  the  Tigris  where  the 
Turks  withdrew  to  better  positions  while  they 
sent  more  troops  up  into  Persia  and  Asia  Minor 


A  NEW  PLAY  91 

against  the  Eussians.  Sunmier  came  and  with  it 
cruel  suffering  from  heat  for  the  dejected  troops. 

The  failure  was  too  depressing,  the  breakdown 
too  complete  to  be  remedied  on  the  field.  The  War 
Office  had  to  do  that.  It  was  a  Herculean  task  to 
reorganize  Mesopotamia.  But  the  War  Office  set 
about  it  with  determination  to  make  good — and 
above  all  to  cut  out  the  mistakes.  In  the  new  show 
there  would  be  no  hazy  distribution  of  authority. 
There  should  be  no  advance  without  a  well-formed 
plan  of  action  and  a  well-defined  objective.  There 
should  be  no  unworkable  understanding  between 
those  who  make  policies  and  those  who  execute 
them.  There  should  be  no  lack  of  supplies,  no  lack 
of  reports,  no  overlooking  of  facts  that  ought  to 
be  taken  into  account,  no  hasty  action  based  on 
overconfidence,  no  piling  of  new  troubles  on  men 
already  overworked,  no — but  things  were  moving. 
The  producers  were  doing  things  and  were  be- 
ginning at  the  beginning. 

In  July,  hardly  three  months  after  Town- 
shend's  surrender  in  Kut,  the  London  War  Office 
formally  assumed  direction  of  the  Mesopotamia 
show.     The  Mesopotamia  Expeditionary  Force, 


92     TO  BAGDAD  WITH  THE  BRITISH 

under  orders  from  London,  took  the  place  of  the 
Indian  Expeditionary  Force  D.  Inadequate  trans- 
port had  been  the  foundation  of  all  the  cruelty  in 
the  campaign.  The  transport  service  was  put 
under  the  Directorate  of  Inland  Water  Transport, 
directly  responsible  to  London.  It  had  been  im- 
possible, under  the  old  system,  to  find  boats  suit- 
able for  the  peculiar  conditions  of  the  country. 
Now  they  would  be  made  in  England.  With  this 
step  came  the  similar  Directorate  of  Supply  and 
Transport,  of  Ordnance,  of  Medical  Services,  of 
Port  Administration,  of  Railways,  of  Conservancy 
Works,  of  Remount  and  Veterinary  Services. 
Every  step  in  the  right  direction  saved  British 
lives  and  made  victory  more  certain. 

The  new  campaign  was  in  the  realm  of  inter- 
national politics.  It  should  be  run  from  London, 
not  from  India.  Yet  the  Indian  government  de- 
serves great  credit  for  its  services  during  the  first 
campaign.  At  the  outbreak  of  the  war  India  sent 
to  the  aid  of  the  mother  country  for  fighting  over- 
seas 80,000  British  troops  and  200,000  Indian 
troops.  She  stripped  herself  almost  bare  for  the 
sake  of  the  Empire  as  a  whole.    Then  commenced 


A  NEW  PLAY  93 

trouble  in  the  interior  of  India  where  some  7,000 
agents  in  German  pay  came  to  stir  up  strife 
among  the  Indians ;  then  more  serious  trouble  on 
the  Afghan  frontier  where  the  hostile  tribes  were 
influenced  to  raid  the  Indian  border.  Indeed, 
India  had  her  hands  full,  but  she  responded  man- 
fully to  every  demand.  Even  the  Eajahs,  the 
native  princes  who  did  not  acknowledge  the  over- 
lordship  of  Great  Britain,  gave  unsparingly  of 
their  riches  and  of  their  men.  India  was  really 
in  the  war.  India  sacrificed  for  it.  But  she 
could  not  do  everything — and  Mesopotamia  suf- 
fered. The  minds  of  the  Indian  government  were 
busy  with  other  things. 

Now  that  the  direction  of  the  campaign  in  Meso- 
potamia was  under  the  War  Office  in  London, 
victory  was  assured.  But  the  hero?  The  new 
campaign  demanded  a  hero  that  could  use  the 
advantages  resulting  from  central  control,  who 
would  see  to  it  that  everything  went  right,  who 
would  never  make  a  move  until  everything  was 
ready  and  who  could  be  relied  on  to  continue  to 
the  end.     It  should  be  someone  who  knew  the 


94     TO  BAGDAD  WITH  THE  BRITISH 

War  Office  end,  as  well  as  the  service  end  of 
war. 

The  news  came  to  us  in  India  that  the  Com- 
mander-in-Chief of  the  newly  named  Mesopotamia 
Expeditionary  Force  was  Major-General  Freder- 
ick Stanley  Maude  who  was  already  in  Mesopo- 
tamia with  the  Thirteenth  Division.  No  one  knew 
anything  particularly  stirring  about  him.  He  had 
had  long  service  in  the  army  but  had  not  been  in 
the  limelight.  We  looked  up  his  record  and  found 
that  he  had  first  served  in  the  Soudan  campaign, 
in  1885,  in  the  vain  attempt  to  rescue  General  Gor- 
don, besieged  in  Khartum.  That  sounded  prom- 
ising. Here  was  a  similar  campaign  to  the  one 
on  the  Nile.  After  the  Soudan  he  had  served  in 
South  Africa  for  three  years,  during  which  time 
he  became  a  Major  and  won  the  D.  S.  0.  After 
four  years  of  service  in  African  campaigns,  he 
would  know  how  to  conduct  such  a  war  as  that  in 
Mesopotamia.  Then,  too,  he  had  served  in  the 
War  Office  for  eight  years,  in  various  positions. 
He  had  served  on  three  general  staffs  and  in  the 
Great  War  served  with  distinction  in  France  as 
Brigadier-General  in  command  of  the  Fourteenth 


A  NEW  PLAY  95 

Brigade,  and  in  Gallipoli  as  Major-General  in 
command  of  tlie  Thirteenth  Division.  That  divi- 
sion had  then  gone  to  Egypt  and  later  to  .Meso- 
potamia, where  it  now  was.  Certainly  the  record 
sounded  as  though  Maude  were  the  right  man. 
Every  requirement  was  met.  He  knew  the  War 
Office  and  he  knew  war  in  the  deserts.  His  steady 
advancement  to  more  and  more  responsible  posi- 
tions showed  that  whatever  tasks  he  had  to  do  he 
did  well.  That  was  exactly  the  combination  need- 
ed in  Mesopotamia.  **Cut  out  the  mistakes.  Go 
slow  but  go  sure. ' ' 

The  atmosphere  cleared.  There  was  hope  in 
the  air.  Among  the  troops  in  India,  on  their 
way  to  Mesopotamia,  a  spirit  of  faith  in  the  fu- 
ture found  its  way  into  the  general  atmosphere. 
The  men  in  London  were  in  direct  command.  Eng- 
land would  see  that  the  new  campaign  was  a  great 
success — ^but  it  would  be  a  serious  business.  The 
relief  force  had  tried  its  best  to  take  Kut  and  had 
failed.  Townshend  had  surrendered.  These  two 
facts  were  clear.  But  Kut  would  fall !  The  dogged 
nature  of  the  British  soldier  came  to  the  front. 

It  came  time  to  embark  for  Mesopotamia.    As 


96     TO  BAGDAD  WITH  THE  BRITISH 

the  B.  I.  steamer  Egra  left  her  mooring  in  Bombay 
harbor  -someone  started  the  men  on  the  song, 
'^Pack  up  your  troubles  in  your  old  kit  bag  and 
smile,  smile,  smile."  We  were  ready  for  any- 
thing. 

In  the  show  in  Mesopotamia,  ^'On  to  Bag- 
dad,'* I  was  a  stage  hand.  My  part,  like  that  of 
the  doctors  and  nurses,  was  the  part  of  a  helper. 
My  duty  was  to  be  of  all  possible  assistance  to  the 
fighting  men.  We  all  ran  the  same  chances  of 
succumbing  to  some  of  the  germs  of  Mesopotamia 
and  of  being  visited  by  airplane  bombs  and  the 
like,  both  fighters  and  non-fighters,  but  these 
chances  were  small,  and  as  I  could  not  use  a  gun 
against  the  enemy  my  part  was  surely  not  that 
of  an  actor.  The  principal  advantage  in  the  posi- 
tion of  a  stage  hand  in  any  play,  aside  from  the 
advantage  of  being  able  to  help,  is  the  opportunity 
to  become  intimate  with  the  actors  and  their  ways 
on  the  stage,  as  they  go  through  their  parts.  My 
work  as  secretary  of  the  Y.  M.  C.  A.  among  the 
British  troops  in  Mesopotamia  gave  me  unlim- 
ited opportunity  for  this. 

After  following  the  first  campaign  against  Bag- 


A  NEW  PLAY  97 

dad  we  know  something  of  the  stage  on  which 
the  new  show  is  to  be  played.  We  know  some- 
thing of  the  new  hero  who  is  to  lead  the  cast. 
Now  for  the  rest  of  the  actors.  First  let  ns 
look  at  the  private  soldier  with  his  big  sun  hel- 
met, his  short  little  blouse  with  its  big  buttons, 
his  heavy  boots  and  wound  puttees,  and  the  per- 
petual cigarette  in  the  side  of  his  mouth.  Tom- 
mies are  Tommies  wherever  you  find  them,  in 
England,  in  India  or  in  Mesopotamia.  Thou- 
sands and  thousands  are  put  into  a  mold,  where 
they  are  to  become  just  parts  of  a  great  machine 
and  to  lose  much  of  their  own  individuality.  Most 
of  the  Tommies  in  Mesopotamia  during  the  second 
show  had  seen  considerable  service  and  were  pret- 
ty well  molded. 

Tommy  is  always  three  things,  doggedly  brave, 
undemonstrative,  sentimental.  He  thinks — ^very 
little.  He  can  wait  patiently  for  hours,  -days, 
weeks,  months — so  long  as  he  has  his  cigarettes. 
He  can  work  like  a  Trojan,  rush  into  danger  calm- 
ly, perform  the  most  wonderful  feats  of  bravery 
and  never  say  anything  about  it.  When  orders 
come  he  obeys — unless  he  thinks  what  rights  he 


98     TO  BAGDAD  WITH  THE  BRITISH 

has  are  trampled  upon,  and  then  he  is  as  doggedly 
stubborn  as  he  is  against  the  enemy. 

He  never  quite  comprehends  things,  never  gets 
to  the  bottom  of  things,  never  reasons  things  out. 
I  was  among  the  Tommies  during  times  when 
there  were  great  victories  and  during  times  when 
there  were  bitter  defeats.  He  was  a  calm  winner; 
a  good  loser.  Neither  victory  nor  defeat  seemed 
to  quite  sink  through.  I  can  not  imagine  a  French 
soldier  or  an  American  being  so  undemonstrative 
about  victory  or  defeat  as  Tommy.  He  knows 
he  has  *^done  his  bit."  That  is  all  he  cares.  He 
is  sort  of  a  fatalist.  ^*If  the  bullet's  got  my 
name  written  on  it,  it's  for  me.  Otherwise  not," 
is  his  philosophy.  When  the  Tommies  left  camp 
to  go  up  to  the  front  line  and  over  the  top  they 
looked  at  it  as  though  they  were  going  to  a  test 
of  courage.  Courage  was  the  one  thing  that  count- 
ed. It  is  Tommy's  religion,  so  far  as  he  has  any, 
though  he  does  not  think  it  through  deep  enough 
to  bring  God  in  by  name.  He  does  not  want  to 
go  over  the  top.  But  if  it  must  be,  he  will  show 
that  he  has  as  much  courage  as  a  man  can  have. 
The  wounded  were   the   only  ones   that  really 


A  NEW  PLAY  99 

thought.  Going  up  and  over  Tommy  did  not  think. 
He  felt.  Some  Tommies  went  over  the  top  kicking 
a  football.  ' 

Tommy  does  not  value  life  as  he  knew  it  before 
the  war.  He  is  in  war — ^not  in  life.  To  Tommy 
there  is  one  high  value,  to  do  one's  bit;  one  low 
value,  to  slack,  or,  in  Tommy's  language,  to 
** swing  the  lead."  There  is  a  trust  between  man 
and  man  in  the  trenches  that  men  who  go  into 
them  feel  for  the  first  time.  **He  let  me  down" 
is  the  one  great  curse.  Tommy  feels,  **We're  all 
in  it  together. "  So  he  hates  *  *  swank, "  or  * '  side, ' ' 
putting  on  airs.  How  can  anyone  claim  to  be. 
better  than  another  in  the  trenches?  Everybody 
is  giving  his  life. 

The  feeling  that  **we're  all  in  it  together"  has 
one  drawback.  It  makes  Tommy  feel  that  every- 
thing is  common  property.  ^'Anything  you  can 
get  is  yours,  no  matter  how  you  get  it — so  long 
as  everyone  has  an  equal  chance,"  is  the  way  he 
looks  at  it. 

Tommy  is  not  happy  in  the  trenches.  He  longs, 
to  get  back.  When  he  does  get  away  to  civiliza- 
tion for  a  little  while,  he  wants  at  first  nothing; 


100  TO  BAGDAD  WITH  THE  BRITISH 

but  sleep.  Then  he  wants  excitement.  He  has 
been  in  the  excitement  of  war  np  to  his  neck  and 
his  ^^ blood  is  up.''  He  looks  for  more  excite- 
ment, not  for  rest,  and  he  finds  it  in  one  way  or 
another. 

Tommy  sees  very  little  of  the  ^^ horrors  of  war.'' 
People  must  stay  at  home  and  look  at  war  from 
a  distance  to  see  those.  In  war  for  all  he  is 
worth,  Tommy  ceases  to  compare.  He  sees  nothing 
horrible.  It  is  war  as  a  separate  existence  that 
Tommy  sees.  Wounds  are  part  of  it.  His  life 
at  home  is  past.  It  is  a  dream.  He  will  return 
to  it  again,  he  thinks,  but  it  is  something  dif- 
ferent. It  has  to  do  with  the  ordinary  world. 
War  has  not.  Seeing  so  many  wounded  and  dead, 
and  always  facing  death  himself,  his  feelings  are 
numbed.  He  is  not  all  brute,  but  he  is  not  as  he 
was  at  home.  Some  Arabs  were  to  be  hung  near 
our  camp  and  a  man  applied  for  the  position  of 
hangman.  Later  he  told  the  story  of  the  execu- 
tion. **The  rope  did  not  kill  the  *budoos,'  "  he 
said,  *  *  so  I  stepped  in  and  hit  them  over  the  head 
with  a  stick  to  finish  them."  At  home  he  would 
have  been  shocked  at  the  occurrence,  but  at  home 


A  NEW  PLAY         ♦.,  :;     101 

he  would  have  thought  in  terms  of  peace.  In  Meso- 
potamia he  thought  in  terms  of  war.  Once  only- 
does  Tommy  think  of  the  horrors  in  war — when 
his  chum  is  killed.  He  goes  to  death  light-hearted 
himself,  but  when  a  chum  **goes  wesf — that  is. 
different. 

The  Tommy  of  Mesopotamia  always  had  a  lit- 
tle kit  bag  full  of  trinkets  he  had  picked  up ;  Arab 
bullets,  or  pieces  of  Turkish  uniforms,  or  buttons 
— almost  anything.  Everywhere  that  he  had  a 
bunk  he  had  a  little  bag  or  box  full  of  keepsakes. 
One  man  in  camp  had  his  box  stolen  by  an  Arab. 
It  was  pathetic  to  see  how  downhearted  he  was 
at  the  loss.  If  it  had  been  a  leg  he  had  lost  he 
would  not  have  minded.  That  would  be  just  part 
of  the  game.  But  that  little  box  represented  every- 
thing that  was  his  own  personal  property.  Ev- 
erything else  he  had,  including  himself,  was  the 
property  of  the  army. 

Tommy  is  always  funniest  in  his  *' grousing'^ 
or  grumbling.  He  grouses  not  because  he  has  a 
grievance  but  from  habit.  If  there  is  really  some- 
thing to  grumble  about,  if  his  battalion  has  been 
caught  in  a  tight  place  and  nearly  wiped  out,  and 


102  TO  BAGDAD  WITH  THE  BRITISH 

lie  is  severely  wounded,  lie  says  nothing,  or  very 
little.  But  if  his  tea  is  cold  he  grouses  terribly. 
He  grouses  about  the  little  things  that  he  would 
grouse  about  at  home.  If  he  is  billeted  behind 
the  lines  and  there  is  a  little  rain  getting  in,  he 
grouses.  If  he  is  in  the  trenches  waist-deep  in 
water,  he  sees  something  funny  in  it.  His  grous- 
ing is  sort  of  a  relic  of  past  breeding.  Breeding 
does  not  get  a  chaace  to  show  itself  when  Tommy 
goes  **up  and  over."  A  Tommy  came  along  the 
trench  one  day  and,  holding  his  side,  shouted, 
**Aw,  I  stopped  a  whole  bloody  shell  myself."  A 
comrade  shouted  back,  **Aw,  shut  your  mouth. 
You'd  think  you'd  stopped  a  whole  bloody  Jack 
Johnson."  A  Tommy  was  brought  into  a  field 
dressing  station.  He  was  riddled  through  and 
through  with  machine-gun  bullets.  *  *  Say,  mate, ' ' 
he  said,  **  write  to  me  father  that  I  look  like  the 
top  side  of  a  pepper  box." 

There  is  a  beautiful  side  about  Tommy.  I  saw 
the  bunks  of  thousands  of  Tommies  in  rest  camps 
and  in  the  trenches  in  Mesopotamia,  and  almost 
invariably  there  was  tucked  into  the  blankets  or 
hanging  alongside  the  bunk  a  little  paper  picture 


A  NEW  PLAY  103 

frame  with  pictures  of  liis  family,  his  wife,  or  his 
girl,  or  of  a  pretty  landscape.  A  Tommy  to  whom 
I  gave  a  piece  of  chocolate  said  he  would  rather 
have  a  taste  of  that  than  anything  else  in  the 
world.  It  was  just  like  his  pictures.  He  was  al- 
most brute  in  the  relentless  struggle  of  war. 
Then  came  something  that  had  to  do  with  the  days 
when  he  lived  out  on  ordinary  earth.  It  had  to 
do  with  something  tender  about  him  and  it  pulled 
him  back  to  himself  and  gave  him  a  new  start.  I 
was  playing  my  violin  at  a  concert  just  behind  the 
lines  one  evening  when  a  husky  Tommy  stepped 
up  to  the  front  and  asked  most  respectfully, 
** Would  you  please  play  *The  Eosary,'  sir?  The 
chaps  want  to  hear  it.'' 

Many  of  the  characteristics  of  the  private  ap- 
pear among  the  other  ranks  in  the  British  Army. 
They  are  tempered  and  altered,  however,  by  the 
various  degrees  of  responsibility.  There  is  the 
lance  corporal,  with  his  one  stripe,  ^^the  private  in 
disguise,"  or  the  man  who  was  **a  private  with 
us  only  a  minute  ago,"  as  many  a  private  has 
characterized  him.  His  rank  is  rather  an  appoint- 
ment than  a  promotion,  given  to  see  whether  he 


104  TO  BAGDAD  WITH  THE  BRITISH 

can  make  good  as  a  leader  of  men.  Next  there 
is  the  corporal,  with  another  stripe.  He  has  usu- 
ally won  it  by  showing  his  ability  as  lance  cor- 
poral. The  corporal  gets  a  big  share  of  the  mean 
work  of  the  army.  He  has  to  make  a  lot  of  men 
do  things  they  do  not  want  to  do,  and  the  men  do 
not  forget  that  he  is  not  very  far  removed  from 
them.  Then  comes  the  *^ backbone  of  the  army,'* 
the  sergeant.  He  has  a  good  deal  of  the  respon- 
sibility and  has  to  carry  it  well.  He  is  the  all- 
important  link  between  the  officers  and  the  pri- 
vates. The  sergeant-major  belongs  to  the  great 
** middle  class."  He  can  help  or  can  hinder  any- 
thing that  passes  either  way  between  officers  and 
lower  ranks.  It  is  a  unique  subaltern  who  can 
get  things  done  if  he  is  not  on  good  terms  with 
the  sergeant-major.  Yet  the  rank  has  its  disad- 
vantages. ** Shove  it  on  the  sergeant-major,"  is 
the  slogan  of  the  officers.  If  no  one  knows  just 
who  should  execute  an  order  it  goes  to  the  office 
of  the  sergeant-major.  His  desk  is  the  great 
dumping  ground  for  every  sort  and  description 
of  order.  The  sergeant-major  is  the  key  that 
unlocks  the  door  to  action.    He  is  usually  a  man 


A  NEW  PLAY  105 

of  at  least  sixteen  years'  experience  in  the  army 
and  knows  the  game  thoroughly,  often  better  than 
his  commanding  officer.  The  first  commissioned 
officer,  the  subaltern  or  second  lieutenant,  is  the 
man  in  the  most  ticklish  position,  unless  he  has 
worked  his  way  up  from  the  ranks.  If  he  is  new 
and  has  men  under  him  that  know  the  game  bet- 
ter than  he,  he  soon  realizes  that  they  obey  him 
without  having  confidence  in  him.  From  first  lieu- 
tenant up,  the  officers  are  or  may  be  commandants, 
and  they  differ  only  in  the  degrees  of  their  re- 
sponsibilities and  experience. 

In  all  the  diversities  of  ranks  and  classes  in  the 
British  Army  there  is  one  characteristic  which 
stands  out  as  a  part  of  each  and  every  one.  That 
is  the  indomitable  desire  to  ** carry  on.''  No  mat- 
ter what  may  be  the  obstacles,  no  matter  what 
may  be  the  discouragements,  '* carry  on!" 

And  one  quality  stands  out  above  all  others  in 
the  British  Army.  That  is  the  quality  of  iron 
discipline.  Combined  with  bravery  it  is  the  foun- 
dation of  the  army's  accomplishments  all  over 
the  world.  The  iron  discipline  makes  for  uniform- 
ity. It  attempts  to  eliminate  the  personal  element 


106  TO  BAGDAD  WITH  THE  BRITISH 

where  it  does  not  help;  but  it  does  not  attempt 
to  eliminate  it  where  it  can  help.  The  officers  take 
an  interest  in  the  men.  The  men  get  to  love  their 
officers.  The  officer  shows  his  interest  by  being 
calmly  insistent  that  everythiQg  go  right.  The 
men  show  their  love  by  having  everything  go  right. 
It  is  part  of  the  discipline.  There  is  never  a 
looseness  about  the  distinction  between  ranks. 
The  lance  corporal,  though  he  was  *'just  a  pri- 
vate with  us  a  minute  ago, "  is  in  a  different  world. 
A  shabby  salute  from  a  man  to  an  officer  or  an 
officer  to  a  man  is  an  unpardonable  sin. 

But  if  the  officers  are  strict  with  the  men  they 
are  as  strict  with  themselves.  A  captain  in  Meso- 
potamia was  so  cruelly  strict  with  his  men  that 
he  drew  upon  himself  the  hatred  of  nearly  all 
while  they  were  training  at  the  base.  There  came 
the  orders  to  go  up  and  over  the  top.  When  his 
company  returned  to  quarters  the  captain  had 
won  for  himself,  through  his  gallantry  and  care 
for  his  men  imder  fire,  the  love  and  admiration 
of  every  man  in  his  command. 

The  siege  of  Kut  and  the  manner  in  which  the 


A  NEW  PLAY  107 

troops  stood  behind  General  Townshend  to  the 
last  is  proof  of  the  effect  of  British  discipline. 
It  is  proof  that  discipline  does  not  mean  lack  of 
love.  It  is  proof  that  discipline  means  that  men 
will  do  for  one  officer  what  they  will  do  for  an- 
other of  the  same  rank,  but  it  also  means  that  the 
bond  that  makes  the  discipline  what  it  is,  is  love 
between  commander  and  commanded.  In  his  com- 
muniques to  his  men  while  starvation  was  staring 
them  in  the  face  and  while  the  relief  force  was 
failing  and  failing,  Townshend  said,  ^*I  .  .  .  now 
love  my  command  with  a  depth  of  feeling  I  have 
never  known  in  my  life  before.  .  .  .  With  the  help 
of  all,  heart  and  soul,  to  me  together,  we  will  make 
this  defense  to  be  remembered  in  history  as  a 
glorious  one.  ...  I  may  truly  say  that  no  General 
I  know  of  has  been  more  loyally  obeyed  and  served 
than  I  have  been  in  command  of  the  Sixth  Divi- 
sion.'*  That  does  not  sound  like  mechanical  dis- 
cipline. The  men  loved  Townshend  as  he  loved  his 
command,  yet  there  was  no  let-up  in  the  discipline. 
If  there  had  been,  the  force  could  not  have  lived 
one  hundred  and  forty-three  days  in  the  besieged 


108  TO  BAGDAD  WITH  THE  BRITISH 

town  as  it  did.  At  the  end  came  surrender.  Yes^ — 
but  more  than  that.  There  came  proof  of  the 
mettle  of  the  British  troops  and  of  the  effect  of 
British  discipline. 


CHAPTEE  VI 

THE   NEW   SHOW— ACT   I— GETTING  READY 

The  transport  Egra  carried  two  thousand 
troops  on  the  six-day  trip  from  India  to  Mesopo- 
tamia, and  a  good  deal  of  the  time  we  had  to 
spend  below  decks;  but  with  concerts,  tourna- 
ments, **  singsongs ' '  and  the  like  the  trip  was 
pleasant  enough ;  and  we  were  on  our  way  really  to 
do  something.  That  made  all  the  difference.  It 
was  along  in  October,  not  quite  two  years  after 
the  entrance  of  the  first  transport  of  the  British 
troops  into  the  waters  of  Mesopotamia,  that  we 
arrived  at  the  top  of  the  Persian  Gulf,  facing  the 
land  of  legend.  We  were  ** there.''  We  were  not 
actually  ashore,  but  we  were  aground,  which  was 
next  to  it.  Every  boat  sticks  on  the  bar  near 
the  mouth  of  the  river  which  leads  the  Tigris  and 
Euphrates  to  the  Persian  Gulf.  The  bar  might 
be  moved,  but  every  time  a  boat  goes  over,  or 
through  it,  the  captain  thinks  he  has  plowed  a 
sufficient  channel  for  any  boat. 

109 


110  TO  BAGDAD  WITH  THE  BRITISH 

It  was  hot  and  sticky,  like  a  summer  day  in 
New  York.  The  deck  of  the  steamer  seemed  like 
a  prison.  The  snn  was  terrifically  hot.  Our  eyes 
were  unused  to  it  and  it  hurt.  The  boat  was  wrig- 
gling off  the  bar,  slowly.  It  was  **full  speed 
ahead,''  then  **full  speed  astern,''  but  still  we 
stuck.  It  was  not  till  the  afternoon  tide  that  by 
wriggling  sideways  and  other  ways  we  finally  got 
off.  We  were  free  and  entering  a  land  of  prom- 
ise. What  it  might  promise  we  did  not  know,  but 
anything  seemed  possible  in  such  a  country  as 
Mesopotamia,  with  a  British  force  bound  for  Bag- 
dad. 

Near  the  mouth  of  the  river  a  fleet  of  native 
boats,  **mahailas,"  was  starting  on  a  trading  ex- 
pedition. Shades  of  Sindbad  indeed !  Those  great 
bulging  sails  might  take  their  ancient  hulls  and 
the  Arabian  pilots  to  any  magic  shore. 

What  a  country  to  have  war  in!  But  there  it 
was.  We  were  passing  the  remains  of  the  little 
mud  fort  at  Fao,  destroyed  by  the  first  British 
guns  fired  in  Mesopotamia.  It  brought  Towns- 
hend  to  our  minds,  and  we  became  serious.  Kut 
must  be  taken! 


GETTING  EEADY  111 

We  entered  the  muddy  river,  steaming  between 
banks  of  swamp  and  thick,  bushy  palms  massed 
along  the  river  on  both  banks  as  far  as  we  could 
see.  No  one  spoke.  It  was  not  a  time  for  talk- 
ing. Thoughts  of  war  and  of  oriental  peace  were 
too  confused.  We  studied  the  faces  of  the  skippers 
of  the  native  boats  we  passed.  Little  they  knew 
or  cared  whether  British  or  Turks  were  winning 
farther  up  the  river.  They  had  their  business  as 
usual  and  had  never  paid  any  taxes  to  the  Turks. 
The  little  property  that  one  of  those  Arab  fam- 
ilies had  was  always  with  them.  Their  boat  was 
their  all.  On  the  bottom  of  the  clumsy  old  barge 
was  all  that  a  family  might  need  to  get  along 
with,  a  grinding  mill  for  the  women  to  work  at, 
and  a  brick  fireplace  to  cook  the  grain  into  cakes — 
cakes  that  would  kill  a  white  man  who  tried  to 
digest  them.  A  place  to  rest,  a  place  to  eat,  a 
family;  what  more  could  a  home  have?  Here 
were  homes  just  as  they  had  been  for  a  thousand 
years. 

Night  came,  with  its  gorgeous  evening  sky.  We 
slept  on  the  steamer  amid  peaceful  oriental  scenes 
and  people,  on  a  river  where  Father  Time  is  never 


112  TO  BAGDAD  WITH  THE  BRITISH 

heeded  and  where  present  and  future  blend  into 
one. 

With  the  morning  all  the  thoughts  of  peace,  of 
quiet,  of  ease,  conjured  up  with  the  night,  fled 
before  the  light  of  a  different  scene.  We  were  at 
Busra — ^but  not  Busra  of  Sindbad  with  its  thou- 
sands of  canals,  thousands  of  boats  and  caravans, 
millions  of  date  trees,  its  great  mosques  and  pal- 
aces and  colleges,  sharing  the  glory  of  the  great 
Bagdad  of  the  ** Caliphate'';  nor  Busra  of  the 
Turks,  but  Busra,  the  great  British  war  base.  The 
river  was  full  of  transports  of  the  army  and  gun- 
boats of  the  navy.  The  land,  for  miles,  was  a 
mass  of  camps,  barracks,  supply  dumps  and  work- 
shops. It  was  war  and  nothing  else.  None  of 
these  things  would  have  been  here  otherwise.  It 
was  a  tremendous  business,  this  war,  and  Busra 
was  the  warehouse  and  workshop.  Here  time  was 
precious.  There  was  no  more  of  the  attitude  of 
the  East.  Immense  bands  of  Indian  and  Egyp- 
tian laborers  were  working  at  top  speed  on  roads, 
railways  and  wharves.  Other  bands  were  unload- 
ing stores  from  ocean  boats,  sweating  up  and 
down  the  gangplanks  with  their  burdens  and  pil- 


GETTING  EEADY  113 

ing  them  in  great  huge  pyramids  in  the  palms. 
Here  and  there  a  motor  lorry  or  a  Ford  ambulance 
was  sending  up  a  cloud  of  dust  as  it  tore  over  the 
desert,  while,  awaiting  orders  to  get  on  with  other 
work,  hundreds  more  stood  ready  at  the  transport 
stations.  Not  a  moment  must  be  lost.  Kut  must 
be  taken!  The  word  was  on  everyone's  lips. 
* '  What 's  the  word  from  up  at  Kut  V  ''  There 's  a 
rumor  of  beginning  next  month' ';  ** Bagdad  for 
Christmas  this  year!''  were  some  of  the  expres- 
sions of  every  day.  The  campaign  to  retake  Kut 
was  on  in  earnest. 

We  were  getting  to  the  show  in  the  middle  of 
the  first  act.  That  act  saw  no  fighting.  It  was 
perhaps  still  more  interesting,  if  different  from 
the  rest.  General  Maude  was  tackling  and  seeing 
through  the  Herculean  task  of  ** getting  ready." 
He  was  ** cutting  out  the  mistakes,"  the  all-impor- 
tant dictum.  Plainly,  his  task  was  this :  to  make 
out  of  the  mud  town  of  Busra,  amid  scenes  of  the 
life  of  the  wandering  Arabs,  a  great  warehouse,  a 
warehouse  for  every  kind  of  implement  of  war, 
but  especially  of  men — a  place  to  receive,  store, 


114  TO  BAGDAD  WITH  THE  BEITISH 

repair  and  ship  men  along  with  other  implements 
of  war. 

Here  were  the  actors,  thousands  of  them,  on 
a  stage  so  different  from  the  like  warehouses  of 
England  and  France  as  to  be  overwhelming  in  its 
contrasts.  The  unimaginative  soldiers  of  the 
British  army  were  getting  ready  for  the  work  to 
come  by  first  getting  used  to  the  Arab  people  in 
whose  land  they  were  living,  getting  acclimated 
not  only  to  the  climate  but  to  the  ways  of  the 
Arab  land. 

Busra  had  changed  greatly  since  the  day  when 
the  first  British  troops  marched  into  it,  two  years 
before.  The  many  flat-roofed  Turkish  buildings 
were  now  converted  into  billets  or  offices  of  the 
British  army.  Where  had  stood  soft  couches  for 
the  idle  Pasha  now  stood  tables  with  typewriters 
going  at  newspaper-office  speed.  Where  htd  been 
Turkish  gardens  now  were  piles  of  cut  stone  for 
roads,  brought  from  overseas.  There  were  also 
signs  of  German  foresight  in  the  days  of  peace. 
Materials  for  the  Berlin-Bagdad  Eailway  were 
piled  as  they  had  been  left  by  the  Teuton  railway 
engineers,  or  were  being  used  by  the  British. 


GETTING  READY  115 

Eails  marked  **Made  in  Berlin, ''  with  the  ship- 
ping mark  **  Busra/ '  were  used,  some  as  girders 
for  a  little  bridge  across  a  ditch,  and  others  for 
the  British  light  army  railway. 

Throughout  the  town  of  Busra  the  star  and 
crescent  door-knockers  and  the  Arabian  coffee- 
shop  signs  had  given  place  to  signs  of  British  of- 
fices of  the  army,  G.  H.  Q.,  D.  S.  &  T.,  D.  0.  S., 
D.  M.  S.,  E.  S.  0.,  D.  L.  of  C,  and  many  others  of 
greater  and  of  less  importance.  Electric  wires  fol- 
lowed the  roads  through  the  town.  Even  in  the 
bazaars  the  needs  of  the  British  soldiers  took 
precedence  over  those  of  the  native  population. 
The  Turkish  barracks  were  crowded  with  British 
troops,  the  small  river  and  canal  boats  which 
served  as  taxis  were  taken  almost  entirely  by 
English  patrons.  Most  of  the  townspeople  had 
left  their  ordinary  merchant  business  and  were 
working  for  the  men  in  khaki. 

Beyond  the  town  were  the  camps  and  dumps, 
hospital  huts  and  wharves,  animal  inclosures  and 
transport  machines,  new-made  roads  and  land  de- 
velopments. As  the  sun  went  down  everything 
became  again  silent  and  motionless.    The  outlines 


116  TO  BAGDAD  WITH  THE  BEITISH 

of  the  cities  of  tents  grew  dimmer  and  dimmer 
against  the  lurid  sky. 

The  sentries  were  posted.  We  were  stopped 
abruptly  by  one  with  '*Halt!  who  goes  there?" 
** Friend,"  came  the  answer.  **Pass,  friend;  all 
is  well,"  was  the  quick  response.  Some  Scotch- 
men were  passing  the  sentry  with  us.  One  of 
them,  with  characteristic  pride  in  his  Highland 
kilts,  said  to  his  mate,  '*Does  he  no  ken  hoo  Fritz 
'ud  look  in  kilts?" 

With  the  night  returned  the  East,  and  as  we 
lay  in  our  tents  the  jackals'  barks  and  the  camels' 
grunts  alone  broke  the  stillness. 

The  constant  getting  ready,  getting  ready,  made 
brothers  of  us  all.  We  were  all  working  for  the 
same  end,  all  the  thousands  of  us  in  Busra,  all 
ranks  and  all  kinds.  That  made  even  camp  life 
seem  bright.  As  the  days  passed  we  found  that 
living  in  the  land  of  the  Arabs  was  not  so  bad 
after  all.  Mesopotamia  was  an  ideal  place  for  a 
big  camp.  There  was  plenty  of  space  to  spread 
out,  in  fact  there  was  not  very  much  but  space. 
The  aviators  were  in  their  element.  The  whole 
country,  except  for  the  palm  groves,  was  an  aero- 


GETTING  EEADY  117 

drome.  And  we  were  so  far  away  from  civilization 
that  we  were  not  bothered  by  comparisons  between 
our  past  and  our  present  states.  We  were  in  a 
different  world. 

Yet  looking  at  it  from  a  distance  everything 
seems  almost  ludicrous.  It  is  one  thing  to  clear 
a  part  of  a  plain  somewhere  in  America  and  build 
a  camp  for  the  new  troops  to  be  sent  to  France. 
It  was  another  to  set  down  a  great  base  in  the 
midst  of  date  palms.  Here  we  have  lines  and  lines 
of  railways  and  motor  trucks  to  carry  stores  to 
the  big  camps.  In  Busra  the  lines  were  as  likely 
to  be  camels  as  motor  trucks.  For  the  meat  ra- 
tion in  Busra  we  had  no  meat  sent  from  a  slaugh- 
ter house  all  ready  to  be  cut  up,  but  the  flocks 
which  an  Arab  shepherd,  in  his  long  robes,  with 
his  crook  drove  in  to  be  kiUed  in  camp.  For  put- 
ting up  new  buildings  there  were  no  huge  loads 
of  lumber,  but  long  lines  of  little  donkeys  carrying 
sacks  of  dirt  to  the  spot.  The  dirt  became  mud, 
the  mud  became  the  outside  of  mud  huts,  plas- 
tered on  reeds  bound  together  for  walls  and  roofs. 

And  the  people  were  so  queer.  To  irrigate 
their  fields  two  husky  Arabs  took  a  saucer-shaped 


118   TO  BAGDAD  WITH  THE  BEITISH 

basket  of  reeds  and  swung  it  with  ropes  between 
them  as  they  stood  knee-deep  in  the  river.  Each 
time  the  swing  was  toward  the  shore  they  picked 
up  a  little  water  and  sprinkled  it  over  the  bank 
in  the  direction  of  a  ditch.  Irrigation  began  only 
after  hours  of  this  process.  It  never  occurred 
to  them  to  carry  water  in  big  vessels  to  the  crops. 
That  would  take  strength.  Their  method  only 
took  time.  And  what  is  time?  The  boatmen  trav- 
eled upstream  in  their  homely  boats,  perfectly 
happy  to  sail  instead  of  to  pole,  if  there  was 
only  enough  wind  to  enable  them  to  hold  their 
own  against  the  current.  The  women  often 
crossed  the  river  on  bundles  of  reeds,  drifting 
a  mile  downstream  before  they  finally  got  across. 
They  were  convinced  that  time  made  little  dif- 
ference. The  methods  of  two  thousand  years  ago 
did  well  enough.  The  Arab  farmers  still  plowed 
their  fields  with  the  simple  implement  of  a  crooked 
stick,  cut  their  grain  with  crude  sickles  and 
trod  it  out  with  their  horses  or  donkeys.  Then 
there  were  the  date  pickers  who  filled  baskets  with 
dusty  dates  and  stamped  on  them  with  their  bare 
feet  to  pack  them  down.    They  piled  the  baskets 


GETTING  EEADY  119 

together  ready  to  be  shipped  to  the  West.  In 
Busra  we  were  forbidden  to  eat  dates  without 
washing  them  in  the  chemical  purifying  solution 
issued  by  the  army,  and  we  had  eaten  the  same 
kind  of  dates  at  home  without  a  thought! 

The  slow  way  of  doing  things  kept  in  style  prin- 
cipally because  there  was  no  great  competition. 
But  the  Arabs  could  do  heavy  work.  I  never  saw 
such  strength  in  men  as  those  men  had  when  it 
came  to  carrying  heavy  burdens  on  their  backs. 
When  there  were  no  donkeys  handy  to  carry  their 
things,  they  loaded  up  their  own  backs  and  each 
man  did  the  work  of  about  three  donkeys. 

The  most  curious  episode  ever,  in  this  line, 
occurred  when  we  had  to  move  a  piano  from  one 
part  of  a  camp  to  another.  It  was  an  upright 
affair,  not  quite  full  size.  Instead  of  calling  up 
an  express  company,  there  being  none,  I  sent  one 
of  the  Indian  servants  out  to  get  some  Arabs.  I 
heard  him  a  minute  after,  not  far  from  the  tent, 
calling  '^Hamal!  Hamal!  Abu  Hamal!^'  In  an- 
other minute  there  were  four  immense  Arab 
coolies  standing  at  the  opening  of  the  tent.  I 
selected  the  biggest  of  them  and  planted  him 


120  TO  BAGDAD  WITH  THE  BEITISH 

"with  his  back  to  the  back  of  the  piano,  as  though 
he  were  a  wooden  soldier  or  a  big  doll.  Then 
with  all  the  Arabic  I  had  been  able  to  master  and 
maay  words  in  Robinson  Crusoe's  sign  language 
I  explained  that  the  big  fellow  should  take  the 
piano  on  his  back  and  the  others  should  steady 
it.  He  wanted  to  know  where  he  was  to  go,  but 
it  would  not  do  to  let  him  know  that.  He  might 
set  a  price.  So  with  a  little  more  sign  language, 
accompanied  by  great  flourishes  of  a  big  stick,  the 
proceeding  commenced.  The  hamal  threw  his 
long  rope  around  the  piano,  and  knotted  it  around 
his  forehead,  made  a  pad  on  his  back  with  his  long 
robe,  and  braced  himself  for  the  pull.  He  heaved 
it  up  with  the  help  of  the  other  hamals  and  stag- 
gered under  the  load.  The  muscles  of  his  legs 
stuck  out  like  great  knobs  of  wood.  The  rope 
pressed  deep  into  his  forehead  and  his  eyes  fairly 
stuck  out  of  his  head.  But  he  looked  satisfied  and 
started  off,  the  three  other  Arabs  balancing  the 
weight  and  helping. 

He  got  about  haK  way  when  he  looked  around 
for  a  place  to  set  the  piano  down.  No  amount  of 
persuasion  or  compulsion  could  make  him  go 


GETTING  READY  121 

farther.  He  saw  a  carpenter's  bench  stuck  in 
the  ground  not  far  off  and  made  for  that,  backed 
up  to  it  and  rested  most  of  the  weight  on  that. 
**Lar'  he  said,  out  of  his  throat,  and  gave  his 
head  a  little  tip  backward,  looking  very  stubborn. 
Encouragement  had  failed.  I  tried  humor.  *  *  Oh, 
Abu!"  I  said,  reproachfully.  At  the  word  Ahu, 
**father,"  he  looked  up.  I  knew  so  little  Arabic 
I  thought  it  wise  to  learn  some  for  his  amuse- 
ment. I  held  up  one  finger.  ** English — one; 
Hindoo — eJc;  Arabi  — r'  It  hit  the  spot.  He 
forgot  to  be  stubborn  and  smiled.  *'Wahud!'' 
he  said,  again  out  of  his  throat.  I  repeated  it, 
but  did  not  get  it  quite  right.  **La!''  he  said, 
I  tried  again.  He  smiled  but  let  it  pass.  I  held 
up  two  fingers,  then  three,  learning  the  next  two 
numbers  ''Thnien"  and  ' ' KhalatJia."  That  was 
enough  for  a  little  encouragement  for  the  old 
man.  I  pointed  to  the  hamals  who  were  helping, 
and  with  signs  theoretically  placed  one  upon  the 
other.  When  we  had  the  imaginary  three-man- 
high  hamal  1  told  the  Ahic,  ^^Khalatha  hamal — 
wahud  Ahu,"  It  hit  the  old  man's  funny  bone. 
He  laughed  outright.    Making  use  of  the  effect  of 


122  TO  BAGDAD  WITH  THE  BRITISH 

the  langli  we  started  off  again  and  the  new  lease 
on  life  lasted  till  we  reached  the  other  end  of  the 
camp,  where  the  Arabs  were  well  paid.  They 
went  off  chuckling,  probably  at  my  attempt  to 
speak  Arabic. 

The  mud  town  of  Busra  was  full  of  Arabs,  but 
they  were  of  the  type  that  have  become  weary 
of  the  wandering,  exciting  life  over  the  plains, 
and  have  settled  down  to  the  life  of  the  town, 
where  stealing  is  more  gentlemanly  but  just  as 
rife.  For  the  Arabs  of  story,  the  Arabs  who 
do  things,  who  rob,  plunder,  wander  and  fight, 
are  the  Arabs  of  the  villages,  far  from  the  towns, 
villages  which  the  dwellers  can  pick  up  at  a  mo- 
ment's notice  and  pitch  in  another  part  of  the 
desert.  It  is  easy  enough  to  see  why  the  Arabs 
can  move  so  readily.  Their  household  goods  con- 
sist of  a  grinding  miU  and  a  few  pitchers  and 
bowls.  Their  houses,  unless  they  have  built  for 
themselves  a  mud  village,  are  just  great  strips  of 
canvas  and  skins  stretched  over  poles,  or  bundles 
of  reeds  tied  together.  Their  wardrobe  would 
hardly  fill  an  envelope.  Never  soiling  their  feet 
with  shoes;  not  wearing  any  sort  of  hat  but  a 


GETTING  EEADY  123 

large  handkerchief  kept  on  the  head  by  a  coil  of 
wool  like  a  snake,  their  clothing  is  most  simple. 
The  men  have  just  two  garments,  a  long  robe 
girdled  at  the  waist,  and  a  coarse,  dark  mantle 
over  that,  hanging  from  the  shoulders. 

One  evening,  while  walking  from  one  camp  to 
another  along  the  river  bank,  I  lost  my  way  and 
wandered  into  a  village  of  these  people.  The  men, 
all  big-boned,  dark-skinned  fellows,  were  sitting 
smoking  or  were  roaming  around  with  that  far-off 
look  peculiar  to  wanderers  in  the  desert.  While  I 
was  there  an  old  man — ^he  looked  like  Methuselah 
— came  to  the  village  carrying  a  sheep.  He  had 
slung  the  animal  over  his  shoulders,  holding  its 
fore  feet  in  one  hand  and  its  hind  feet  in  the 
other,  with  the  woolly  body  around  his  neck.  The 
old  man's  long  gray  beard  and  the  sheep  seemed 
to  blend  together.  The  women,  much  smaller 
than  the  men,  with  worn,  wrinkled  faces,  were 
nearly  all  dressed  in  long  black  robes.  Most  of 
the  women  were  tattooed  or  had  little  green  fig- 
ures painted  on  their  cheeks  near  their  eyes.  They 
were  grinding  at  the  mills  or  nursing  dirty  little 
babies.    The  kiddies  were  playing  and  laughing 


124  TO  BAGDAD  WITH  THE  BRITISH 

along  the  bank  of  the  river,  where  lay  the  clumsy 
boats  of  the  Arab  family.  At  the  shore  there 
were  also  women  and  girls  drawing  water  in 
long-necked  copper  vessels  and  carrying  it  to  the 
tents  and  huts.  I  thought  of  Rebecca  at  the  well. 
Some,  girls  of  perhaps  twenty-two  years,  who  had 
kept  even  to  that  age  traces  of  beauty,  were  more 
brilliantly  dressed  than  the  women  in  black.  Per- 
haps they  were  favorites  of  the  head  man  of  the 
family.  Over  the  ordinary  loose-hanging  shape- 
less robe  they  were  bedecked  with  thin  scarfs 
lightly  draped  around  the  shoulders  or  waist.  One 
girl,  with  a  flowing  robe,  wore  scarfs  of  orange 
which  set  off  beautifully  her  rich  black  Arabian 
eyes.  As  she  walked  up  from  the  bank  with  her 
pitcher  on  her  shoulder,  the  heavy  bracelets  she 
wore  on  her  bare  legs  and  arms  glistened  in  the 
glow  of  the  evening  sun. 

A  small  dome  of  mud  in  the  center  of  the  vil- 
lage was  the  only  sign  of  the  religious  observ- 
ances of  the  Mohammedan  tribespeople.  An  old 
man  kneeling  on  the  bank  was  prostrating  himself 
in  prayer  to  Allah,  with  his  face  to  the  western 
sky  and  the  holy  Mecca.     Still  dressed  as  the 


GETTING  EEADY  125 

prophet  Mohammed  dressed,  the  man  of  Arabia 
was  praying  toward  the  Arabian  Mecca.  Turkish 
government  had  not  changed  the  direction  to  Con- 
stantinople. 

The  holy  place  of  most  of  the  Arabs  of  Meso- 
potamia is  the  little  town  of  Kerbela  on  the  river 
Euphrates,  rather  than  Mecca  of  Arabia.  It  is 
the  spot  where  the  Shiah  martyrs  were  killed, 
and  where  the  Shiahs  still  look  for  inspiration. 

One  morning  in  early  November  I  chanced  to 
be  in  the  town  part  of  Busra  when  I  noticed  that 
there  was  something  unusual  in  the  air.  There 
were  none  of  the  throngs  of  coolies  around,  many 
of  the  bazaars  were  closed,  and  in  side  streets 
were  groups  of  women  huddled  together  on  the 
ground  in  their  black  robes,  with  dust  and  ashes 
on  their  heads,  weeping  as  though  their  hearts 
would  break.  I  walked  to  the  canal  to  get  a  boat 
and  found  there  were  no  boatmen  working.  Near 
the  bridge  I  saw  a  woman  carrying  a  child  in  one 
arm  and  with  her  free  arm  waving  a  sword  over 
the  head  of  the  child.  Every  once  in  a  while  she 
took  a  little  jab  at  the  child's  head  till  it  was 
covered  with  cuts.     That   certainly  pointed  to 


126  TO  BAGDAD  WITH  THE  BRITISH 

something  important  in  tlie  minds  of  the  Arabs. 

The  celebration  to  which  all  these  signs  pointed 
was  not  long  in  coming.  I  was  on  the  bridge  which 
crosses  the  creek  when  I  heard  the  faint  sound 
of  distant  shouting,  like  the  echoes  of  a  tre- 
mendous crowd.  Then  there  came  dim,  metallic 
noises,  like  armor  clashing  against  armor,  then 
a  drum,  and  a  horn.  A  crowd  of  townspeople, 
Arabs,  Chaldeans,  Jews,  Sabeans  and  Persians, 
were  forming  a  line  along  the  wall  at  the  side  of 
the  road.  Before  we  knew  it  a  number  of  us  in 
khaki  were  part  of  the  throng,  waiting  for  the 
parade. 

We  were  facing  the  creek  running  along  beside 
the  road.  The  noise  grew  louder  and  louder.  In 
another  moment  black  banners  hanging  from  long 
lances  were  moving  along  over  the  heads  of  the 
crowd  across  the  creek.  Now  they  had  reached 
the  bridge.  They  were  crossing,  now,  and  moving 
up  past  us.  The  crazy  din  of  cymbals,  drums  and 
horns  was  almost  deafening.  First  came  the 
black  banners,  then  curiously  decorated  floats. 
On  one  of  the  floats  was  a  bier,  on  another  what 
looked  like  a  man's  head  in  a  tin  pan.     Splen- 


GETTING  EEADY  127 

didly  dressed  horsemen  on  fine  Arab  horses  with 
all  their  trappings  followed  these.  Some  held 
long  curved  swords  and  one  would  judge  from  the 
wildness  of  their  eyes  that  they  expected  to  do 
something  murderous  with  them.  Then  came  more 
banners  and  persons  in  rich  costumes.  Then  the 
rabble  on  foot;  all  men,  bared  to  the  waist  and 
shouting  wildly.  They  stopped  now  and  then  and 
beat  their  chests  with  all  their  might,  keeping 
time  with  a  leader  and  shouting  **A-li!  A-li! 
Hu-sein!  Hu-sein!'^  as  they  struck  their  chests. 
A  big  man  who  stopped  in  front  of  us  had  beaten 
his  chest  to  shreds.  A  Tommy,  nearby,  said, 
**The  trenches  are  safer.'' 

"When  the  men  beat  themselves,  the  groups  of 
women  wept  all  the  louder  to  try  to  be  heard 
above  the  tumult  of  shouting.  They  set  them- 
selves so  seriously  to  the  weeping  that  it  became 
almost  a  shout,  as  though  they  were  cheering. 

It  seemed  like  a  dream  after  a  lesson  in  the 
Old  Testament  about  sackcloth  and  ashes — ^but 
no;  here  were  more;  a  long  line  of  men  holding 
hands.  They  were  dressed  in  white  robes  covered 
with  streaks  that  looked  like  red  paint.    But  as 


128  TO  BAGDAD  WITH  THE  BRITISH 

they  came  nearer,  the  truth  appeared.  Each  man 
had  a  square  shaved  in  the  middle  of  the  top  of  his 
head  and  a  deep  cross  cut  in  it.  The  cut  might 
be  fatal — but  it  would  show  his  pity  and  love  for 
the  blood  of  those  that  had  died  as  martyrs.  They 
passed  by  us  slowly,  some  staggering  in  their 
weakness  and  holding  themselves  up  by  the  help 
of  their  fellows.  **That  chap  looks  like  he'd 
copped  a  bit  of  a  shell.  They  must  do  some 
straffin'.  I'd  rather  the  straflSn'  of  the  Turks," 
said  someone  in  the  crowd. 

The  parade  passed  by  and  I  went  my  way  up 
through  the  bazaar  quarter  of  the  town.  For  the 
first  time  I  could  detect  some  expression  in  the 
iron  faces  of  the  Arab  shopkeepers.  The  talking 
in  the  coffee  shops,  where  the  men  were  sitting 
on  the  wide  wooden  benches  smoking  their  hubble- 
bubble  pipes,  was  louder  and  more  excited  than 
usual. 

I  inquired  of  a  friend  with  experience  in  Arabs 
what  this  celebration  was  all  about,  and  learned 
that  these  paraders  were  men  of  the  Shiah  sect 
of  Mohammedanism,  bemoaning  the  martyrdom 
of  the  men  whose  names  they  called  out — Ali  and 


GETTING  EEADY  129 

his  son  Husein.    This  was  the  Passion  celebration. 

Ali  was  cousin  and  son-in-law  of  the  prophet 
Mohammed.  When  Mohammed  died,  Ali,  unfor- 
tunately, was  not  chosen  successor  to  him  as  head 
of  Islam.  In  gentlemanly  spirit  he  conceded  the 
election  of  the  chosen  one.  But  his  followers  were 
many  and  fanatical.  After  the  third  successor  to 
Mohammed  had  proved  himself  unworthy  of  the 
post,  Ali  was  made  caliph  under  the  pressure  of 
his  followers.  All's  claim  had  been  thrice  denied, 
even  though  he  was  connected  by  blood  relation- 
ship to  Mohammed.  Now  his  wild,  terrible  party 
got  him  into  power.  He  tried  to  rule  from  the 
banks  of  the  Euphrates  but  his  attempt  was  a 
failure.  In  the  frenzy  which  followed,  Ali  was 
murdered  in  Kerbela  and  the  sect  opposed  to  him 
came  into  power. 

But  by  the  murder  of  Ali  his  followers  were 
roused  to  still  greater  heights  of  fanaticism.  The 
blood  of  the  prophet  had  been  shed.  They  put  for- 
ward Husein,  the  second  son  of  Ali,  as  the  rightful 
caliph.  They  were  ready,  almost  anxious,  to  die 
to  retrieve  the  awful  murder  of  Ali.  A  gruesome 
struggle  ensued  and  Husein  also  was  killed.  Those 


130  TO  BAGDAD  WITH  THE  BRITISH 

deaths  have  never  been  forgotten.  Half  of  Islam 
still  regard  All  and  Husein  as  their  great  fore- 
fathers and  celebrate  the  shedding  of  the 
Prophet's  blood  through  All  and  Husein  by  shed- 
ding their  own. 

It  is  as  real  to  them  now  as  ever.  It  is  said 
that  each  year  100,000  Arabs  take  their  dead  to 
be  buried  in  the  holy  ground  where  Ali  and  Hu- 
sein fell. 

These  are  the  people ;  this  the  sort  of  life  that 
we  were  in  the  midst  of  in  the  great  warehouse 
of  men  among  the  palms  of  the  great  '*date 
town. ' '  But  though  the  people  stay  the  same  from 
generation  to  generation,  the  war  was  going  on. 
Under  the  strong  hand  of  General  Maude  every- 
thing was  ready.  General  Maude  had  *^cut  out 
the  mistakes. ' '  Kut  would  be  taken.  Every  day 
we  expected  to  hear  reports  that  an  advance  was 
being  made. 

My  work  took  me  up  the  Tigris,  nearer  the 
front,  to  the  biggest  hospital  camp  of  the  force, 
in  the  town  of  Amara.  Men  were  coming  and 
going  every  day  between  our  station  and  the 
front.    A  few  came  back  with  slight  wounds  from 


GETTING  EEADY  131 

an  airplane  raid.  Then  all  was  quiet.  Every  day 
brought  the  rumor  that  there  would  be  an  attack 
the  next  day. 

We  could  see  the  results  of  the  work  of  Gen- 
eral Maude.  We  could  see  the  tremendous  re- 
enforcements  getting  into  positions  to  be  used. 
We  could  see  the  piles  of  supplies,  the  railways, 
the  transport  facilities,  a  hundred  boats  where 
there  had  been  a  dozen,  a  hundred  automobiles 
where  there  had  been  one.  We  could  see  all  man- 
ner of  machines  and  factories,  ready  to  repair 
equipment  and  guns,  to  make  ice  and  furnish  elec- 
tric current.  We  could  see  splendidly  equipped 
hospitals  where  there  had  been  a  system  that  ab- 
solutely broke  down  under  the  strain  of  the  first 
campaign.  But  most  important  of  all,  we  could 
see  a  good  spirit  in  the  place  of  the  dejected  atti- 
tude that  followed  the  failure  to  relieve  Town- 
shend.  Each  and  every  improvement  was  to  have 
its  share,  large  or  small,  in  the  great  drive  that 
must  be  successful  because  everything  was  ready. 


CHAPTER  yil 
A  NEW  PLUNGE  FOB  KUT— ACT  II 

Geneeal  Maude  was  at  the  front  now.  The 
first  act  in  Bnsra  was  over.  The  course  to  be  run 
by  his  troops  was  the  same  which  the  troops  under 
General  Townshend  ran  in  the  stirring  fight  for 
Kut  which  brought  Townshend  his  prize.  Town- 
shend gained  Kut  after  two  days  of  fighting  at 
breakneck  speed.  But  now  there  were  new  ob- 
stacles in  the  course. 

Townshend  had  found  a  small  force  of  Turks 
on  both  banks  of  the  Tigris  south  of  Kut.  He  had 
drawn  nearly  all  the  force  to  the  south  bank  aad 
then  delivered  his  crashing  blow  on  the  north. 

Maude  found  a  larger  force  of  Turks  in  much 
stronger  positions,  with  a  knowledge  that  they 
had  kept  back  the  British  for  many  months  and 
that  Townshend 's  surrender  in  Kut  was  due  to 
their  holding  back  the  relief  force.  They  were 
confident,  reenforoed  and  in  fighting  mood.    And, 

132 


A  NEW  PLUNGE  FOR  KUT  133 

besides,  the  powers  in  Germany  were  taking  a 
more  personal  interest  in  the  Mesopotamia  cam- 
paign. The  war  was  indeed  in  the  hands  of  Turkey 
as  far  as  the  suffering  went,  but  standing  above  the 
Turks  were  German  officers  in  Bagdad.  General 
Maude  could  not  carry  off  his  prize  with  a  dashing 
attack.    For  him  there  must  be  a  campaign. 

The  blow  of  General  Maude  must  be  a  premedi- 
tated, painstaking  sort  of  fight,  like  the  campaign 
of  Kitchener  in  Egypt.  Lord  Kitchener  demanded 
above  all  other  things  that  as  his  troops  marched 
up  the  Nile  they  should  never  march  beyond  rail- 
head. His  troops  must  wait  for  the  railway  no 
matter  how  long  it  might  take.  With  him  there 
would  be  no  force  cut  off,  no  force  without  pro- 
visions, no  force  without  all  necessary  transport. 
Moving  toward  Khartum  slowly,  steadily,  surely, 
Kitchener  had  in  his  mind  the  picture  of  the 
heroic  Gordon  in  his  last  days  in  Khartum  where 
by  his  own  magnetism  of  character  he  held  the 
people  of  the  city  firm  to  him  to  the  end,  and  fi- 
nally gave  himself  for  the  sake  of  the  honor  of  his 
country.     When  everything  was   ready,  Kitch- 


134  TO  BAGDAD  WITH  THE  BRITISH 

ener's  force  moved  like  clockwork,  but  not  be- 
fore. 

General  Maude's  campaign  should  move  in  the 
same  way.  He,  too,  saw  the  picture  of  a  hero 
beating  back  the  Turks  from  Kut  and  fighting 
starvation  within  the  town.  Like  clockwork — the 
wheels  turning  steadily,  the  pendulum  swinging 
without  a  hitch,  always  moving  ahead,  moving 
ahead,  striking,  and  striking  surely  at  the  right 
time — ^so  would  move  the  British  toward  Kut. 

In  the  interior  of  Persia  there  was  still  unrest. 
In  the  interior  of  Arabia  the  Turks  were  active 
and  hoped  to  get  around  behind  the  British  on  the 
Tigris  and  Euphrates.  On  the  Tigris  the  Turks 
were  in  the  same  positions  that  they  held  when 
General  Maude  took  command  of  the  British 
force.  The  object  of  the  Turks  was  to  hold  back 
the  campaign  of  General  Maude  with  as  few 
troops  as  possible  and  leave  the  bulk  of  the  Turk- 
ish army  to  operate  in  Palestine  and  in  Persia. 
That  would  allow  the  repulse  of  the  Russians 
from  the  Persian  hills  and  the  check  of  the  Brit- 
ish on  the  advance  toward  Jerusalem.  If  Maude 
should  be  successful  on  the  Tigris  both  these  other 


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136  TO  BAGDAD  WITH  THE  BRITISH 

campaigns  against  the  Turks  might  be  successful. 
That  would  not  be,  however.  Maude  could  not 
break  through  Sanniyat.    So  reasoned  the  Turks. 

It  was  on  Sanniyat  that  the  Turks  pinned  their 
hope.  And  they  had  reason.  Wedged  in  between 
the  Tigris  and  an  impassable  marsh,  only  a  thou- 
sand yards  apart,  the  Sanniyat  position  was  as 
strong  as  any  position  might  be.  It  was  safe  from 
anything  like  a  flank  attack.  Also  it  was  too  nar- 
row a  position  to  allow  feinting  in  one  sector  and 
attacking  in  another  at  a  great  distance  away,  as 
is  often  done.  The  Turks  had  spared  no  labor  in 
building  the  trenches.  Everything  was  there,  con- 
cealed machine-gun  pits,  elaborate  parapets, 
barbed-wire  entanglements,  military  pits,  land 
mines.  The  communication  trenches  formed  a 
veritable  city  of  streets.  Each  street  running 
perpendicular  to  the  river  had  its  opening  on  the 
bank  and  its  own  system  for  pumping  water.  And 
the  No  Man's  Land  before  the  position  was  as  flat 
and  as  open  as  a  frozen  lake. 

The  rumors  were  the  same  every  day.  ''We'll 
be  up  and  over  to-morrow."  So  intent  were  we 
on  what  we  expected  that  the  start  was  made  be- 


A  NEW  PLUNGE  FOR  KUT  137 

fore  we  knew  what  was  happening.  *  ^  We  're  bom- 
barding at  Sanniyat!''  came  the  excited  word.  It 
was  the  **Go!''  The  campaign  was  on.  It  was 
startling !  Everybody  had  thought  that  the  San- 
niyat  position  could  not  be  taken  by  a  frontal 
attack  unless  we  could  in  some  way  get  around 
behind  it  too.  But  we  had  hardly  begun  to  won- 
der about  it  when  fresh  news  came  in.  *  *  The  cav- 
alry have  got  across  the  Hai."  Another  shock! 
With  all  our  thinking  we  had  not  expected  that 
right  away.    But  neither  had  the  Turks. 

With  everyone  **set/'  at  the  word  **Go''  the 
cavalry,  with  supporting  infantry,  moved  out  in 
the  small  hours  of  the  fourteenth  of  December. 
It  was  a  year,  almost  to  the  day,  after  the  time 
when  Townshend,  besieged  in  Kut,  started  his 
great  defense  against  the  Turks.  The  bombard- 
ment at  Sanniyat  was  but  a  dummy  to  take  the 
attention  and  strain  off  the  southern  bank.  The 
Hai  river  was  off  to  the  west,  a  little  stream, 
once  the  main  course  of  the  Tigris,  flowing  due 
south  from  the  town  of  Kut.  Four  miles  down  its 
course  the  British  threw  a  bridge  across  the 
stream.    There  was  little  current  and  the  river 


138  TO  BAGDAD  WITH  THE  BRITISH 

was  not  more  than  a  hundred  yards  wide.  The 
crossing  was  a  complete  surprise  to  the  Turks 
and  across  the  river  only  a  band  of  Arab  horse- 
men stood  in  the  path  of  the  British  force.  This 
band  of  Arabs  was  too  surprised  to  offer  strong 
resistance  and  after  a  few  of  them  had  been 
mowed  down  with  machine-gun  bullets  the  rest 
cleared  out. 

So  the  little  muddy  stream  was  the  British 
prize  for  winning  the  sprint.  But  this  was  not  the 
whole  race.  The  race  for  Kut  was  to  be  a  Mara- 
thon. The  first  part  of  it  was  a  decided  victory 
for  the  Tommies.  The  soldiers  of  the  Sultan  were 
far  behind,  completely  outclassed. 

At  the  south  end  of  the  Hai  lay  Nasarie,  on 
the  Euphrates,  with  the  British  force  in  much  the 
same  position  that  it  held  when  the  town  was  first 
taken  early  in  the  first  campaign,  soon  after  the 
celebrated  ^^Townshend's  Regatta'^  at  Amara. 
That  position  was  now  all  protected.  With  the 
British  controlling  the  northern  part  of  the  Hai 
the  Turks  could  send  no  troops  or  supplies  down 
that  river  against  Nasarie.  It  was  a  great  blow, 
but  the  Turks  were  not  dismayed.     The  infidels 


A  bend  in  the  long  covered  bazaar  which  runs  through 

Bagdad 


Turkish  river  mines  which  failed  to  halt  the  British 
advance 


A  NEW  PLUNGE  FOR  KUT  139 

could  be  no  match  for  the  followers  of  Allah. 
Allah  beat  them  when  they  tried  to  take  Bagdad. 
Again  Allah  would  coop  them  in  a  trap. 

Little  they  imagined  what  this  first  drive  meant. 
It  meant  the  forging  of  a  great  loose  chain  hang- 
ing from  its  ends,  one  on  the  Tigris  at  Magasis, 
the  other  now  on  the  Hai;  a  chain  which  would 
tighten,  tighten,  tighten,  till  everything  within  its 
bend  must  perish  or  flee. 

The  end  of  the  chain  on  the  Tigris  was  held 
firm.  General  Cobbe  was  in  command  from  Mag- 
asis to  Sanniyat.  A  picket  line  ran  along  the 
south  of  the  Tigris  from  Magasis  to  the  British 
position  facing  the  Turks  at  Sanniyat.  The  new 
anchorage  on  the  Hai  was  as  firm.  General  Mar- 
shall, who  commanded  the  charge  for  the  Hai,  was 
in  command  of  that  section  of  the  British  front. 

The  Turks  now  took  up  a  position  against  the 
British  on  the  Hai  not  much  more  than  a  thou- 
sand yards  south  of  Kut.  The  British  facing 
north  moved  toward  the  Turks.  Hliel  Pasha  be- 
gan, I  imagine,  to  feel  sorry  he  had  lost  the  Hai. 
The  British  advanced  in  a  formation  that  made 
the  force  extend  for  thousands  of  yards.    Though 


140   TO  BAGDAD  WITH  THE  BRITISH 

the  force  was  little  more  than  a  division,  it  ap- 
peared to  be  a  tremendous  army.  The  advance 
was  slow,  creeping  up  to  get  into  touch  with  the 
Turks.  But  it  was  great  to  have  an  entirely  new 
part  of  the  country  to  march  on  and  work  over 
and  dig  in.  The  country  below  had  become  mo- 
notonous. 

The  cavalry  were  in  their  element.  They  had 
been  so  tied  down  in  the  past  months,  with  noth- 
ing very  exciting  to  do,  they  just  could  not  do 
enough  now.  Off  shot  a  cavalry  detachment  past 
Kut  and  got  near  enough  to  the  Tigris  to  threaten 
the  Turkish  river-boats  bearing  supplies  from 
Bagdad  to  the  army  at  Kut.  They  actually  saw 
the  boats  steaming  up  the  Tigris,  taking  the  first 
Turkish  wounded  to  Bagdad,  and  they  resolved  to 
follow  them  there  before  many  days. 

It  was  not  yet  the  time  for  a  great  advance  on 
the  river  Hai.  There  the  force  must  hold  the  end 
of  the  chain  until  the  middle  could  move  up  to  the 
Tigris.  When  that  was  done,  and  the  Turks  had 
either  crossed  the  river  or  surrendered,  the  force 
on  the  Hai  might  advance  toward  Kut.  In  the 
meantime  all  that  the  force  need  do  was  keep  the 


A  NEW  PLUNGE  FOR  KUT  141 

Turks  occupied.  It  stretched  out  the  left  of  the 
line  to  the  northwest  and  obtained  a  position  look- 
ing into  Kut  from  the  side.  The  airplanes  were 
busy,  bombing  and  beating  back  parties  of  irregu- 
lars that  attempted  to  raid  the  British  camps. 
They  hit  the  Turkish  pontoon  bridge  and  caused 
their  engineers  a  great  deal  of  bother  as  they 
towed  it  upstream.  There  was  a  good  deal  of 
artillery  work  on  both  sides  and  the  British 
casualties  were  considerable.  All  the  wounded 
were  sent  overland  to  the  Tigris  behind  the  Brit- 
ish lines  and  from  there  on  paddle  boats  down 
the  river  to  the  hospital. 

On  a  cold,  crisp  day  in  December,  one  of  the 
coldest  days  of  the  year,  though  still  above  freez- 
ing, a  paddle  boat  brought  a  large  batch  of 
wounded  to  our  dock.  With  their  uniforms  spat- 
tered with  blood  and  rough  field  dressings  on  their 
wounds,  they  were  brought  into  the  hospital 
wards.  These  were  only  huts  made  of  reeds  and 
mud  but  they  seemed  like  home  to  the  men  as 
they  came  off  the  boat.  I  went  aboard  the  boat 
with  what  cigarettes  and  good  cheer  I  could  find, 
and  as  I  went  from  man  to  man  I  noticed  that  a 


142  TO  BAGDAD  WITH  THE  BRITISH 

great  many  were  youngsters.  They  had  prob- 
ably gone  over  the  top  for  the  first  time.  One  of 
them  was  sitting  on  his  stretcher  looking  as 
though  it  were  easier  to  sit  up  than  lie  down. 
But  he  was  quite  happy.  **Good  morning,  chum/' 
I  said,  ^^  where 'd  ye  cop  itf  With  a  broad  grin 
he  turned  and  said,  **Aw,  I  copped  it  fair,  not  *alf, 
a  blinkin'  bit  o'  shell  in  me  thigh.''  But  he  smiled 
when  he  said  it.  A  few  hours  later  I  found  him 
sitting  on  his  bed,  wiggling  his  five  toes  to  show 
he  could  use  the  leg  he  still  had.  Another  boat- 
load came  next  day.  They  were  a  game  lot.  Yes, 
they  had  done  their  bit  but  were  willing  to  take 
more  if  there  was  more  coming  to  them.  Some 
of  the  operations  were  worse  than  wounds  but 
they  went  to  them  all  like  men.  We  had  a  cele- 
bration in  one  of  the  wards.  A  piece  of  shell  was 
taken  from  the  leg  of  one  man.  With  the  iron 
scrap  were  a  button  and  a  piece  of  a  watch  that 
had  come  from  the  clothes  of  the  comrade  on  his 
right.  **Good  Christmas  present,  that,"  he  said, 
as  he  thought  of  the  approaching  day  of  days. 

Christmas  in  Mesopotamia  was  a  memorable 
occasion.    We  were  separated  from  the  country  of 


A  NEW  PLUNGE  FOR  KUT  143 

the  first  Christmas  only  by  the  broad  expanse  of 
the  Arabian  desert.  Straight  to  the  west  lay 
Bethlehem.  At  night  we  had  the  same  clear  East- 
ern sky  with  its  stars  that  seemed  to  look  right 
out  at  us  as  though  they  were  beckoning  us  to 
follow.  There  were  around  us  camels  with  their 
riders  dressed  in  their  picturesque  Eastern  cos- 
tumes, and  carrying  burdens  but  not  of  frankin- 
cense and  myrrh.  They  were  burdens  of  muni- 
tions and  supplies  for  war.  During  the  bright, 
clear,  crisp  nights  of  the  Christmas  season  the 
riders  on  the  camels,  moving  slowly  off  over  the 
plains,  seemed  truly  to  be  the  Wise  Men  following 
a  bright  star  in  search  of  the  King. 

We  did  our  best  to  make  the  hospital  wards  look 
like  Christmas.  We  had  plenty  of  bandages  for 
decorating.  Some  kind  people  had  sent  out  as 
war  gifts  various  kinds  of  bright  cloth  and  paper. 
There  were  also  pieces  of  torn  uniforms  and  torn 
invalid  clothes.  The  nurses  got  all  the  wounded 
who  could  use  their  hands  to  help  with  the  deco- 
rations, and  they  did  well.  On  long  strips  of 
bandages  they  pinned  pretty  figures  cut  out  of 
pieces  of  colored  cloth  or  of  paper,  and  over  every 


144  TO  BAGDAD  WITH  THE  BRITISH 

doorway  was  a  greeting,  *^ Merry  Christmas.'' 
We  were  far  from  home  but  we  still  remembered 
the  great  day  and  its  spirit.  At  midnight  of 
Christmas  Eve  a  carol  party  walked  around 
among  the  wards  carrying  a  little  pump  organ 
and  singing  the  glad  tidings  of  Christmas  and 
good  will.  And  indeed  there  was  good  will.  All 
were  working  together  with  a  feeling  of  fellow- 
ship that  only  common  suffering  and  common 
hope  can  bring.  So  Christmas  was  real  even  in 
the  plains  of  Mesopotamia;  perhaps  more  real 
than  anywhere  else  with  the  scenes  at  the  birth 
of  the  Prince  of  Peace  as  a  background. 

For  the  Turks  there  was  a  Christmas  present 
in  the  shape  of  two  rainstorms  Christmas  week. 
These  held  up  the  British  a  great  deal.  Mere 
ditches  in  soft  soil  to  begin  with,  the  trenches 
had  little  chance  when  the  rain  came.  They 
were  soon  small  streams  with  bottoms  of  mud  up 
to  the  ankles.  Bairnsfather's  Bert,  who  **  slept 
well  enough  but  had  to  get  out  and  rest  once  in  a 
while,''  was  the  typical  character  while  the  rain 
lasted  and  the  Tommies  had  to  hunt  around  for  a 
place  to  get  a  few  hours  of  sleep  in  a  dry  spot. 


A  NEW  PLUNGE  FOR  KUT  145 

But  the  rain  did  not  swell  the  river  enough  to 
flood  the  land  and  the  New  Year  came  with  beauti- 
ful clear  weather  and  dry  ground  and  a  good 
spirit  among  the  Tommies  in  the  trenches. 

As  boys  on  a  baseball  field  want  to  start  a  game 
going  before  there  is  a  ball,  so  this  force  along 
the  Hai  wanted  to  play  its  game  before  any  of 
the  accompanying,  supporting  movements  had 
been  carried  out.  Some  men,  over-anxious  to  get 
along  with  it,  went  over  the  top  *  *  on  their  own, ' ' 
just  to  see  whether  they  could  not  find  something 
extraordinary.  A  shower  of  bullets  soon  gave 
them  to  understand  that  there  should  be  no  holi- 
day afternoon  promenade  in  the  direction  of  Kut. 

The  curve  in  the  British  line  was  straightening. 
The  Turks  were  making  a  desperate  stand  in  the 
Kadairi  bend  as  it  did  so.  The  bend  was  fairly 
seamed  with  trenches,  a  maze  of  ditches  and  nullas 
in  all  directions  and  of  all  sizes.  The  Turks 
hoped  for  rain.  With  that  they  could  flood  most 
of  the  land  and  not  only  keep  back  the  British 
but  cut  off  a  good  many.  There  was  no  time  for 
the  British  to  dally.  If  they  were  going  to  get 
to  Kut  they  must  drive  the  Turks  out  of  that 


146  TO  BAGDAD  WITH  THE  BRITISH 

bend — and  quickly.  While  the  new  year  was  yet 
young  they  went  up  and  over,  bound  for  the  Ti- 
gris over  the  rough  ground  in  the  bend.  They 
fought  like  mad,  but  it  was  a  bloody  battle  and 
casualties  were  appalling.  The  men  of  the  Man- 
chester Regiment  and  the  men  of  the  Highland 
Light  Infantry  took  the  greatest  amount  of  pun- 
ishment. They  were  put  into  the  hardest  fighting, 
and  over  the  rough  but  open  ground  these  two 
regiments  lost  more  than  half  their  number.  In 
its  slaughter  the  battle  was  gruesome,  but  in  its 
results  it  was  splendid.  Steadily  the  British  and 
Indian  troops  pushed  back  the  Turks,  nearer  and 
nearer  the  river. 

Men  from  the  Scottish  border  and  men  from  the 
border  of  far  away  Tibet,  men  from  the  plains 
of  England  and  men  from  the  Indian  Punjab, 
fought  together  in  the  valley  of  death.  The  In- 
dians were  splendid.  They  lived  up  to  every 
expectation  and  more.  A  great  many  of  the 
Indian  wounded  came  down  along  with  the  Brit- 
ish. One  curious  boat-load  had  the  decks  of  the 
steamer  itself  packed  with  British  troops,  a  barge 
at  one  side  packed  with  wounded  Indians,  and  the 


A  NEW  PLUNGE  FOE  KUT  147 

barge  on  the  other  side  packed  with  Turkish  pris- 
oners. We  took  in  the  British  wounded,  sent 
along  the  Indians  to  the  Indian  hospital  next 
door,  and  sent  the  Turkish  prisoners  to  their 
destination. 

The  Indians  took  their  suffering  extraordinarily 
well.  In  the  excitement  of  the  fighting  they 
brought  to  the  front  all  the  latent  fanaticism  of 
their  races  as  they  dashed  over  the  top,  but  when 
away  from  the  trenches,  wounded,  they  had  their 
test.  They  were  more  like  children  with  bruised 
knees  than  anything  else.  When  the  wounds 
smarted  they  cried  like  little  children,  but  when 
they  just  hurt  or  felt  pretty  comfortable  they 
loved  to  lie  and  mutter  or  sing  little  songs.  When- 
ever I  passed  a  tent  filled  with  wounded  Indians, 
I  always  heard  a  sort  of  tom-tom  drum,  a  tahlaz- 
dholak,  going  steadily,  and  a  little  crooning  tune 
like  a  quiver  of  the  voice.  It  was  queer,  but  it 
was  their  way  of  having  a  good  time  in  the  midst 
of  getting  over  their  wounds. 

An  Indian  boy  who  had  been  in  before  on  er- 
rands rushed  into  my  tent  one  afternoon  with  a 
great  story.     The  Indian  troops  had  just  done 


148  TO  BAGDAD  WITH  THE  BRITISH 

something  very  praiseworthy  at  the  front  and  the 
word  had  got  around  among  the  Indians  that  they 
had  been  complimented  by  high  officials  for  their 
bravery.  The  boy  had  heard  of  the  affair  and 
seeking  out  a  soldier  not  too  far  removed  by  caste 
to  speak  to  him  had  asked  about  the  fight. 
Whether  I  spoke  Hindustani  or  not  never  en- 
tered his  head  as  he  blurted  out  excitedly,  **  Se- 
poy jus'  now  nulla!  Turk  much!  Bohut  kharahl 
Bullets  much!  Much  finished!  Sepoy  finish?  Ne 
Sahib!  Sejpoj  teek!  Turk  finish!  Ah!''  I  nodded 
approval  and  the  lad  beamed  all  over  as  if  the 
honor  for  the  victory  were  entirely  his.  What  had 
happened  was  this :  some  Indian  troops  were  cut 
off  from  the  rest  of  the  force  by  a  chance  forma- 
tion of  the  ground  and  had  to  defend  themselves 
in  a  little  nulla,  or  dried-up  water  channel.  The 
sallies  of  the  Turks  on  the  caged  Indians  were 
terrific,  but  the  Indians  held  their  ground,  firing 
till  their  rifles  were  hot.  Ammunition  was  practi- 
cally gone  and  the  Turks  were  all  but  on  them 
when  help  arrived.  They  had  held  their  ground 
splendidly,  and  for  good  luck,  when  reenforced, 
drove  the  Turks  back  an  extra  line  of  trenches. 


A  NEW  PLUNGE  FOR  KUT  149 

Of  course  the  Indians  were  glad  of  the  work 
they  had  done.  Even  men  of  different  caste  re- 
joiced with  them.  The  hard  and  fast  lines  of  race 
and  caste  were  broken  by  the  spirit  of  comrade- 
ship. Not  long  ago  the  races  of  India  were 
steeped  in  constant  civil  war.  Now  fighting  with 
the  British  were  all  sorts  of  Indians,  from  many 
parts  of  India :  Sikhs,  Jats,  Gurkhas,  Mahrattas, 
Punjabis,  Patans,  Bopals,  Rajputs,  Garhwals, 
Baluchis,  Dogres,  Burmese,  and  fighting  a  com- 
mon enemy  they  were  winning  out.  They  looked 
to  the  Tommies  as  examples. 

Steadily  on  went  the  hard  fighting  in  the  Ka- 
dairi  bend.  One  day  it  was  in  a  recently  dug 
Turkish  trench.  A  long  red  line,  dirt  thrown  sky- 
high,  airplanes,  artillery,  infantry,  working  to- 
gether on  the  plunge — and  it  was  gone.  Another 
day  most  of  the  fighting  was  in  the  old  nullas  or 
over  flat  land.  That  was  over  sooner.  There  were 
not  all  the  helps  of  modem  trench  systems  to  pro- 
long the  fighting. 

When  the  Tommies  came  down  to  ''dock,''  as 
they  called  the  hospital,  they  liked  best  to  talk  of 
the  hand-to-hand  fighting  in  the  open.     It  was 


150   TO  BAGDAD  WITH  THE  BRITISH 

there  that  the  real  test  of  the  fighter  came.  When 
he  and  the  enemy  were  out  of  the  trenches  far 
enough  to  grapple  in  the  open  he  knew  whether 
he  had  the  ^^  stuff  or  not.  It  was  here  that  the 
test  was  most  severe,  because  the  Turks  were  so 
fanatical  and  their  craze  took  them  to  such 
heights  of  frenzy.  And  here  the  bravery  of 
Tommy  and  Sepoy  was  rewarded  to  the  full. 

Just  two  weeks  they  had  struggled  to  push  the 
Turks  back  to  the  river.  Just  two  weeks  the 
Turks  struggled  manfully  against  their  foes.  In 
their  trenches  the  Turks  were  the  most  dogged 
fighters  imaginable,  but  on  the  run  and  in  the 
open  they  could  never  hold  their  own.  And  now 
they  were  back  to  the  bank  of  the  river.  The 
time  for  the  decision  had  come.  They  must 
^^rnake  for  if  across  the  river  or  give  themselves 
up.  **  They 're  fighting  like  mad,''  said  the  latest 
rumor.  It  was  the  eighteenth  of  January.  All 
day  they  fought  and  stuck  in  their  positions  on  the 
south  bank,  the  last  they  had.  In  the  night  they 
seemed  to  be  preparing  for  another  desperate  de- 
fense. An  occasional  sniping  during  the  night 
gave  proof  that  they  were  still  on  the  lookout, 


A  NEW  PLUNGE  FOR  KUT  151 

getting  ready  for  something.  Morning  came  and 
revealed  the  last  Turkish  positions,  but  no  Turks. 
In  the  dead  of  night  they  had  made  their  getaway 
across  the  river,  not  by  bridge  but  by  innumer- 
able little  Arab  boats  of  all  sorts  and  descrip- 
tions. Some  of  them  had  been  along  the  bank  for 
many  days,  hidden  in  the  little  growth  near  the 
river.  It  was  sort  of  a  Gallipoli  on  a  small  scale, 
with  the  Turks  the  ones  to  get  away.  There  was 
not  a  great  deal  of  ill-feeling  at  losing  the  pris- 
oners. On  the  contrary  there  was  a  good  deal  of 
congratulation  from  British  to  Turks  on  the  way 
in  which  they  had  managed  the  crossing.  **  Johnny 
knows  a  thing  or  two,  an'  don't  you  forget  it," 
said  a  philosophizing  Tommy  who  had  developed 
a  good  deal  of  respect  for  the  Turk  in  his  many 
encounters  with  him,  **but  we'll  get  him  yet." 

With  the  Turks  out  of  the  bend  it  was  time  for 
action  along  the  Hai.  General  Marshall  had  by 
this  time  approached  to  within  four  hundred 
yards  of  the  Turks  and  was  ready  for  heavy  work. 
And  heavy  work  he  would  have. 


CHAPTER  Vin 
ACT  III— SERIOUS  FIGHTING 

**We  could  see  the  place  easy.  I  think  we'll 
be  in  in  a  few  days/'  said  a  Lancashire  lad  as 
he  lay  on  his  stretcher  on  the  deck  of  the  paddle 
boat  that  was  taking  him  from  the  trenches  to 
the  hospital.  The  boat,  laden  with  wounded,  was 
snuggling  against  the  bank  and  the  stretcher 
bearers  were  coming  aboard  to  hurry  the  stretch- 
ers into  the  wards.  The  lad  had  been  hit  as  he 
was  plunging  desperately  over  the  flat  ground 
only  a  little  over  a  thousand  yards  south  of  Kut 
as  though  it  were  his  own  responsibility  to  take 
the  town.  It  did  look  close  to  him,  as  though  the 
army  were  about  to  march  right  into  the  town. 
Little  he  thought  the  War  Lords  had  no  idea  of 
such  a  move. 

He  was  one  of  the  first  wounded  in  the  action 
against  the  Turkish  defenses  on  the  Hai.  On  both 
sides  of  the  river  the  British  force  advanced  to- 

152 


SERIOUS  FIGHTING  153 

ward  the  little  mud  town  of  Kut.  It  was  the  final 
plunge. 

There  were  among  the  troops  a  few  of  the  men 
who  had  fought  for  Kut  with  General  Townshend 
over  a  year  before  and  who  had  left  his  ranks 
wounded  at  Ctesiphon.  **I  wish  our  blokes  was 
still  there.  We'd  save  'em  soon  enough,''  said 
one  of  these,  to  express  his  hearty  good-will  to- 
ward the  force  he  left  before  the  siege.  But  there 
was  no  need  to  revive  any  of  the  troops  by  tales 
of  the  siege  of  Townshend  arid  his  force.  The 
thought  had  been  worn  in  till  it  was  simply  a  part 
of  every  man  of  us  in  Mesopotamia.  Kut  and 
Townshend  were  synonymous.  To  take  Kut  was 
to  be  worthy  of  the  sacrifice  of  the  great  General. 

Kut  itself  was  nothing  to  deserve  such  a  siege, 
nor  to  deserve  so  large  a  force  against  it  now. 
Though  Kut  had  been  great  in  times  gone  by — the 
home  of  Persian  nobles  and  Mohanunedan  princes 
— it  was  nothing  now  but  a  tumbledown  Turkish 
mud  town.  Kut  had  been  a  veritable  paradise  of 
gardens  when  the  great  Nahrwan  canal  flowed 
into  the  mighty  Tigris  at  the  town.  But  were  it 
still  a  paradise  Kut  would  stir  the  men  no  more  to 


154  TO  BAGDAD  WITH  THE  BRITISH 

brave  fighting  and  brave  dying.  Townshend  de- 
served it.  Townshend  should  have  it.  For  those 
to  whom  the  great  General  and  his  force  were 
unknown  except  by  the  story  of  the  siege  it  was 
enough  to  know  that  a  brave  British  soldier  had 
**  stuck  if  and  only  lost  because  he  could  not  be 
relieved.  The  least  these  men  could  do  was  get 
to  Kut  now,  almost  a  year  late.  And  there  was 
more.  General  Townshend  had  fearlessly  started 
and  nearly  won  the  campaign  against  Bagdad. 
That  must  be  completed. 

At  any  rate  the  determination  to  **get  on  with 
if  was  a  guaranty  that  this  show  should  be  no 
tragedy.  It  was  near  the  end  of  January,  with 
the  best  kind  of  weather  possible,  almost  like  our 
early  spring,  and  the  tussle  commenced  in  earnest. 
The  fighting  in  the  Kadairi  bend  had  been 
tough,  but  this  was  more  bloody  still.  This  was 
real  war.  It  began  to  look  like  the  war  on  the 
western  front.  The  flatness  of  the  ground  made  it 
even  worse  than  France.  There  were  the  lines 
and  lines  of  reenforced  trenches  which  had  to  be 
taken  by  storm  or  not  at  all.  It  meant  the  ^  *  over 
the  top''  of  France;  less  imaginative,  less  roman- 


SERIOtrS  FIGHTING  155 

tic  than  the  usual  Mesopotamia  warfare,  with  long 
marches,  routs,  great  feats  of  strategy;  yet  this 
meant  more  to  the  square  mile.  Now  a  report  of 
the  taking  of  trenches  a  mile  deep  was  hailed  with 
the  enthusiasm  that  was  once  called  out  by  the 
rout  of  the  Turkish  army  from  Kut  to  Ctesiphon, 
nearly  eighty  miles,  and  there  were  many  more 
wounded  and  killed  now.  The  **side  show''  was 
playing  the  same  sort  of  game  that  was  on  in  the 
main  grounds — the  grim  business  of  the  western 
front.  We  seemed  nearer  our  friends  in  France. 
A  heavy  artillery  bombardment,  a  wild  charge,  a 
counter  attack,  bombing  out,  out  again,  in, 
through,  over,  all  mixed  up,  fighting,  fighting. 
That  was  it  now.  Yet  the  clockwork  motion  still 
persisted.  There  was  never  a  charge  until  prep- 
aration guaranteed  success.  The  artillery,  with 
airplanes  and  sausage  balloons,  was  making  vic- 
tory sure.  The  sausages  floating  through  the  air 
were  awful  frights  to  the  superstitious  Turks  and 
Arabs.  **It's  a  Genie  come  to  get  us,"  they 
thought  as  they  watched  one  wriggling  in  the  air 
like  some  phantom  of  ill-omen. 

One  of  the  days  of  this  show  I  remember  es- 


156    TO  BAGDAD  WITH  THE  BRITISH 

pecially.  The  wounded  were  overflowing  with  the 
tales  of  the  exciting  day  and  of  their  victories 
over  the  Turks.  *^I  reckon  it  won't  last  long 
now,"  said  a  chap  whose  battalion  took  the  brunt 
of  a  counter  attack.  * ^  We  went  up  an'  over  pretty 
slick.  By  gum !  how  Johnny  did  scrap  to  get  back 
'ome — ^but  he  did  no'  do  it." 

It  certainly  was  a  great  day  for  Tommy.  Not 
a  counter  attack  by  the  Turks  was  successful.  Yet 
they  plunged  back  at  the  Tommies,  before  they 
could  get  settled,  with  the  last  ounce  of  their 
strength  and  endurance.  '^The  British  must  not 
take  Kut."  The  message  was  fairly  written  on 
their  faces  as  they  hurled  themselves  back  at  the 
trenches  they  had  lost. 

**I  reckon  all  sorts  o'  things  happen  to  us  poor 
blokes,"  said  one  of  the  more  unfortunate  of  the 
wounded.  **We  got  into  Johnny's  first  trench 
right  'nough,  but  the  fellows  with  the  bombs  got 
caught  in  a  mess  of  shells  on  the  way  over  and 
we  was  standin'  in  the  blinkin'  fire  trench  without 
a  bomb.  The  Turks  were  scrappin'  like  mad  to 
get  back  'ome  an'  there  we  were  with  nothin'  but 
rifles  to  stop  'em.    Johnny  was  near  'ome  when 


SERIOUS  FIGHTING  157 

the  reserves  got  to  us.  An'  then  mebbe  we  didn't 
straf  'im.    Not  'alf." 

About  this  time  there  was  a  startling  event. 
A  shell  whizzed  from  a  British  gun  on  its  way  to 
the  town  of  Kut.  An  instant — and  **zip,  bang." 
The  beautiful  blue  tile  minaret  in  Kut,  the  only 
minaret  in  the  town,  which  had  stood  sentinel  over 
the  flat  roofs  during  all  the  days  of  the  siege, 
crashed  to  the  ground.  Nothing  but  the  base  and 
a  jagged  top  halfway  up  remained  to  show  where 
had  been  the  beautiful  little  dome.  The  balcony 
on  which  the  priest  was  wont  to  stand  to  call  the 
Mohammedans  to  prayer  was  in  ruins. 

But  others  than  the  priest  had  used  that  bal- 
cony during  the  battle  against  the  advancing 
British.  Artillery  observers  had  used  it  and  felt 
safe  because  they  thought  the  British  dare  not 
destroy  the  holy  tower  while  they  had  Moham- 
medans in  their  army.  But  it  was  gone.  The 
British  were  too  near  the  town  to  allow  it  to  stand 
and  serve  for  machine  guns  as  well  as  for  ob- 
servers. 

It  is  an  interesting  fact  that  the  day  follow- 
ing the  ruining  of  the  minaret  a  notice  was  read 


158  TO  BAGDAD  WITH  THE  BRITISH 

to  the  Indian  Mohammedan  troops  in  the  army 
that  permission  had  been  received  from  the  High 
Priest  of  the  Mohammedan  people  in  India  to 
destroy  that  bit  of  sacred  property. 

Anyone  who  has  traveled  in  the  Orient  can 
appreciate  the  significance  of  the  destruction. 
Even  though  Mohammedans  were  fighting  against 
each  other,  the  property  of  mosques  was  sacred 
to  both  sides.  At  one  time  during  some  trouble 
between  the  Turkish  officials  and  some  Arab 
settlers  over  a  district  sacred  to  the  Shiah  Mo- 
hammedans, one  of  the  mosques  of  the  Arabs  was 
injured.  A  fight  ensued  which  rivaled  the  worst 
of  the  Great  War  in  its  bloodshed.  To  murder  as 
reprisal  for  the  desecration  of  a  mud  mosque  was 
a  holy  act.  *  ^  The  sword  is  the  instrument  of  Mo- 
hammed. * ' 

The  Indian  Mohammedans  were  splendidly  and 
carefully  treated  by  the  British  and  they  splen- 
didly returned  thanks  by  their  fighting.  And 
fighting  Turks  and  Arabs  was  a  painful  business. 
Every  sort  of  bullet,  from  the  most  modern 
'^rnade  in  Berlin'^  to  the  old-fashioned  bullets  of 
the  Arab  irregulars,  the  lead  turned  around  so  it 


SERIOUS  FIGHTING  159 

struck  like  a  dumdum,  came  down  to  us  as  **  tro- 
phies'' in  the  bodies  of  the  wounded.  There 
would  be  new  faces  for  many,  and  new  legs  and 
arms,  but  they  were  a  game  lot.  *^I  reckon  I 
copped  one  and  a  half  this  time,"  said  one  chap. 
He  had  lost  a  good  part  of  his  side  and  had  to  lie 
flat  on  his  chest  with  his  chin  buried  in  his  blanket, 
but  he  wore  a  smile  that  would  **buck  up"  the 
most  gloomy  of  mortals. 

For  strong  men  laid  out  with  wounds  and  still 
excited  from  the  fighting,  many  of  them  on  a 
casualty  list  for  the  first  time,  the  inaction  was 
the  worst  agony  of  all.  The  excitement  they  had 
been  through  made  them  wish  for  more,  yet  they 
must  lie  and  do  nothing.  They  did  not  care  to 
have  the  same  kind  of  excitement  right  away,  but 
were  quite  willing  even  for  that  if  need  be.  One 
would  think  that  when  they  had  taken  off  their 
blood-stained  uniforms  and  had  got  in  between  the 
sheets  for  the  first  time,  probably,  since  they  left 
home,  they  would  think  of  the  home  where  there 
were  faces  they  would  love  to  see.  But  no — their 
thoughts  turned  continually  to  the  scene  of  the 
** scrap"  where  they  *^ copped"  their  wounds.    I 


160   TO  BAGDAD  WITH  THE  BRITISH 

had  made,  on  a  piece  of  rubber  cloth,  a  map  of 
the  country  where  the  fighting  was  going  on,  and 
there  wasn't  a  man  but  was  keen  as  a  tiger  to  get 
hold  of  the  thing  and  trace  with  his  finger  the  part 
of  the  front  where  his  company  had  charged  and 
the  spot  where  he  had  stopped  a  bullet,  or  a  piece 
of  a  shell  or  a  bomb.  Many  had  a  most  vague  idea 
of  what  part  of  the  country  they  were  fighting 
in,  and  wandered  with  their  fingers  all  over  the 
map  reading  all  the  words  and  names  till  they 
located  something  that  sounded  familiar.  '  *  I  say, 
chum,"  one  said,  *' here's  all  these  places  we 
stayed  at  when  we  were  tryin'  to  get  the  blokes 
in  Kut  last  year.     Sodom — Gomorrah — Pool  of 

Siloam Say,  is  this  really  the  land  of  the 

Bible?"  He  was  much  disappointed  to  hear  that 
the  real  Bible  land  was  far  across  the  Arabian 
desert.  *^ Here's  Kala  Haji  Fahan  where  we 
straffed  the  *  loose-wallas,'  "  said  another.  Loose- 
wallas  once  meant  ^ thieving  Arabs,"  but  it  had 
come  to  apply  to  all  Arabs,  no  matter  how 
** noble"  they  might  be.  And  from  another, 
** Let's  see — I  was  on  the  other  side  of  the  Hai. 
It  must  'ave  been  'ere  that  we  straffed  'em,  an' 


SERIOUS  FIGHTING  161 

about  'ere  that  that  blinkin'  bit  o'  shell  copped 
me  in  the  leg.  I  reckon  that  was  a  scrap ! ' '  Every 
man  had  something  to  say  about  the  map  and 
every  man  felt  that  his  wound  was  more  impor- 
tant when  he  had  seen  the  picture  of  the  bit  of 
ground  where  he  had  been  wounded  in  taking  his 
part  in  an  advance. 

The  talking  of  men  about  the  ** scraps"  did 
more  to  keep  up  the  good  spirits  than  anything 
else,  for  they  were  winning.  The  nurses  were  al- 
ways glad  to  listen  to  the  stories  and  to  add  some- 
thing cheery  to  each.  Before  long  they  could  tell 
as  good  tales  as  the  men  themselves.  They  picked 
up  the  Tommy's  words  and  ways  of  thought. 
They  picked  up  the  army  feeling  that  everything 
is  common  property  during  war.  The  Indian 
word  ^^pukero^'  soon  found  its  way  even  into  their 
conversation.  The  word  means  **get,''  with  no 
implication  as  to  how  one  is  to  get.  The  word 
served  admirably  among  the  men  and  became  a 
part  of  their  language,  along  with  **blighty''  and 
many  other  words  once  Indian.  It  would  not  do 
to  say  the  sergeant  gave  away  something  to  a 
friend  or  to  say  that  a  Tommy  walked  in  some- 


162   TO  BAGDAD  WITH  THE  BRITISH 

where,  found  something  he  wanted  and  took  it 
along,  but  pukero  always  served.  One  morning 
in  the  wards  there  came  word  that  there  was  to 
be  an  inspection  by  the  A.  D.  M.  S.  It  was  neces- 
sary that  everything  be  shipshape.  Somehow  or 
other  several  bowls  were  missing  from  one  of 
the  wards.  *  *  Orderly ! ' '  said  the  Sister  in  charge, 
*^we  must  have  six  more  bowls.''  '^Haven't  got 
'em.  Sister,  and  there's  no  more  to  be  issued." 
**Then  pukero  some,"  said  the  Sister.  It  came 
just  as  naturally  as  **Go  to  the  corner  grocery 
and  get  some."  But  there  is  no  corner  grocery 
in  the  army.  It  is  either  get  an  issue,  pukero  or 
go  without. 

Now  at  the  front,  the  British  force  was  almost 
touching  the  river  at  Kut  itself.  It  was  fighting 
its  way  to  the  very  end  of  the  river  Hai,  where  it 
joined  the  Tigris  at  Kut.  Kut  lay  in  a  horseshoe 
curve  of  the  river  hanging  from  the  north  by  its 
two  ends.  Just  west,  another  horseshoe,  the 
Dahra  bend,  hung  in  the  opposite  direction,  its 
ends  poiating  south.  To  get  the  Turkish  force 
beyond  the  ends  of  that  horseshoe  meant  closing 
them  in  it.    Turkish  guns  all  around  the  outside  of 


SERIOUS  FIGHTING  163 

the  Dahra  bend,  especially  in  Kut  itself,  meant 
to  have  something  to  say  about  that.  They  were 
already  busy.  But  not  these  shells,  nor  anything 
else,  could  stop  the  steady  march  now. 

The  first  of  February  was  celebrated  by  bring- 
ing down  a  German  Fokker  airplane.  Wild  and 
marvelous  exploits  followed  each  other  in  quick 
succession.  On  the  second,  a  section  of  cavalry 
again  galloped  up  the  river  twenty  miles  past  Kut 
and  menaced  the  Turkish  line  of  communication 
with  the  force.  Next  day  east  of  the  Hai  the  Turks 
were  back  to  their  very  last  line  and  they  crossed 
to  the  west  bank  of  the  little  river,  bound  for  the 
Dahra  bend  where  they  would  soon  find  them- 
selves closed  in — and  no  way  out.  There  was  not 
a  Turk  on  the  south  side  of  the  river  east  of  the 
Hai.  The  great  chain  which  was  formed  so  long 
ago,  with  one  end  on  the  Tigris  east  of  Kut,  was 
now  bringing  its  other  end  up  to  join  the  Tigris 
west  of  Kut.  That  would  certainly  mean  trouble. 
The  Turks  could  not  afford  to  let  the  Tigris  be 
in  British  hands  both  in  front  and  behind.  If  we 
could  read  signs,  however,  their  fears  were  soon 
to  become  facts.    The  army  that  was  to  keep  back 


164   TO  BAGDAD  WITH  THE  BRITISH 

the  British  from  the  Tigris  was  fast  falling  back 
to  the  Dahra  bend. 

The  old  licorice  factory,  operated  by  Turkish 
merchants,  not  far  from  the  Tigris,  now  became 
the  objective.  This  old  landmark  was  held  by 
Townshend  during  his  valiant  stand  in  Kut  and 
enabled  him  to  keep  the  Turks  back  from  the 
river  bank.  Would  it  now  be  able  to  keep  the 
British  back  in  the  same  way?  From  across  the 
river,  in  Kut,  the  Turks  were  sending  over  a  well- 
directed  fire.  It  was  cannons  to  right  of  them, 
cannons  to  left  of  them,  now  as  the  British  ad- 
vanced, gradually  squeezing  the  enemy  into  the 
loop.  The  fire  of  the  British  was  centering  on 
the  licorice  factory  and  its  remains  were  fast 
disappearing.  It  had  once  been  a  landmark. 
Now  it  was  a  shell  crater.  Another  day  and  it 
was  a  part  of  the  British  trench  system.  The 
only  thing  that  lay  between  the  British  and  the 
Tigris  was  gone.  As  in  the  Kadairi  bend,  the 
Turks  were  pressed  back  against  the  river  bank 
and  must  get  across  or  surrender.  **We  have 
waited  for  the  rain  and  mud  to  stop  you,''  said 
one  of  the  young  Turkish  officers,  taken  at  the 


SERIOUS  FIGHTING  165 

licorice  factory,  **but  fate  willed  that  it  should 
not  rain.''  Kismet,  the  supreme  of  supremes  to 
a  Mohammedan,  had  willed.  The  dictate  of  Fate 
can  not  be  beaten  by  man  or  beast,  by  war  imple- 
ments or  peace  agencies.  Kismet  is  supreme. 
The  rain  was  just  one  day  late.  The  day  after 
the  taking  of  the  licorice  factory  it  came  down  in 
torrents.  At  first  the  mud  was  just  a  thin,  slip- 
pery film  over  the  surface  of  the  ground,  slippery 
as  ice.  It  was  hard  to  walk  in,  almost  impossible 
to  run  in.  Next  day  it  rained  again,  and  the  next. 
The  film  of  mud  gave  place  to  a  deep,  sticky  quag- 
mire. Every  footstep  meant  carrying  a  load  that 
stuck  all  around  one's  boots  from  three  to  six 
inches  thick.  There  was  a  wait  in  hopes  of  better 
weather.  Still  it  rained.  Another  move,  a  drive 
through  a  sea  of  mud.  But  it  was  the  last.  The 
Turks  were  in  their  last  position  in  the  bend. 

The  rain  coming  late  had  served  only  to 
dampen  their  spirits.  The  half-hearted  attempt 
to  get  across  the  river  failed.  There  was  a  mis^ 
take  in  the  Turkish  orders  and  they  were  not 
ready  to  cross  when  the  little  Gurkhas,  in  their 
enthusiasm,   were   right   up   in   their  trenches. 


166  TO  BAGDAD  WITH  THE  BRITISH 

Hardly  a  boat-load  got  away.  The  game  was  up. 
Just  two  months  before,  in  the  middle  of  Decem- 
ber, the  scrap  had  begun.  Now  in  the  middle  of 
February  the  whole  of  the  south  bank  of  the  Ti- 
gris was  British.  All  during  the  evening  of  the 
fifteenth  and  the  day  of  the  sixteenth  the  Turks 
came  out  of  their  trenches  with  white  flags  tied  to 
their  bayonets.  There  were  2000  prisoners  all 
together.  Marching  up  toward  the  British  lines, 
they  presented  a  most  extraordinary  appearance, 
a  long  line  of  tired,  disheveled  fellows  with 
slouchy  balaklava  hats  and  loose  pajama-shaped 
uniforms,  covered  from  head  to  foot  with  mud. 
They  had  shoes — most  of  them — ^but  they  were  in 
bad  condition.  Some  had  strips  of  burlap  wrapped 
around  their  feet  instead.  Slipping  and  sliding  in 
the  mud,  their  loose  clothes  weighed  down  by 
the  mud  in  all  sorts  of  queer  positions  and  shapes 
on  their  bodies,  plunging  along  toward  their  new 
masters  and  their  lost  trenches,  they  were  a  for- 
lorn-looking crowd.  They  had  tried  long  and  hard 
in  the  vain  attempt  to  keep  back  the  infidel  Brit- 
ish. Now  perhaps  they  could  at  least  get  some 
rest.    They  had  had  a  pretty  hard  time  of  it  ever 


SERIOUS  FIGHTINO  167 

since  the  campaign  started.  Canglit  napping  at 
first  when  they  found  the  British  in  a  great  chain 
halfway  around  them,  their  communication  al- 
ways in  danger,  the  Arabs  that  were  fighting  with 
them  turning  against  them  when  they  were  losing, 
to  plunder  and  murder  the  wounded,  or  deserting 
just  when  needed,  they  had  been  bitterly  dis- 
heartened by  the  steady  train  of  events  and  the 
steady  march  of  the  British.  The  rain  would  not 
come;  the  river  would  not  rise  as  expected;  the 
British  airplanes  would  be  just  where  they  were 
not  wanted.  No  wonder  they  were  a  pathetic  lot. 
**If  there's  fighting  to  be  done,  give  me  Johnny 
Turk,"  was  Tommy's  opinion.  *'He's  clean  right 
through  and  will  ^ stick  it'  to  the  finish."  But 
here  in  the  bend  was  the  finish.  There  was  no 
way  to  get  out  and  the  valiant  fighters  became  a 
wretched  lot  of  hoodlums.  The  various  and  sun- 
dry opinions  about  the  Turk  as  a  specimen  seem 
to  end  in  the  fact  that,  though  a  game  fighter  in 
actual  warfare,  behind  the  lines  Johnny  Turk  is 
studying  Prussianism  and  how  to  make  vassals  of 
the  peoples  near  by  or  get  rid  of  them.  What 
Germany  did  to  Belgium,  Turkey  did  to  Armenia. 


168   TO  BAGDAD  WITH  THE  BRITISH 

As  a  prisoner  the  Turk  returns  to  the  same  game. 
As  they  passed  us  on  the  way  to  a  prison  camp, 
they  looked  for  all  the  world  like  the  distrustful, 
intriguing,  greedy  pupils  of  German  Kultur. 

They  wanted  two  things :  sleep  and  shoes.  They 
acted  decently  enough,  but  had  hard  work  re- 
sponding to  the  good  treatment  tendered  them  by 
the  British.  They  were  put  on  our  boats,  sent 
down  to  the  gulf  and  thence  to  India.  We  gave 
them  some  cigarettes  to  help  them  on  their  way, 
but  many  refused  them — thought  they  were  pois- 
oned or  loaded. 

Two  things  were  always  done  for  them  by  their 
captors:  they  were  given  baths  and  fumigated; 
and  they  were  given  new  clothes,  uniforms  of  In- 
dian soldiers. 

With  the  surrender  of  the  Turks  in  the  Dahra 
bend,  one  great  task  remained — to  cross  the  river. 
No  amount  of  straight  plunging,  no  matter  how 
brave,  could  do  that.  The  days  of  taking  line 
after  line  of  trenches  by  mere  assault  had  passed. 
Strategy  would  win  now,  nothing  else.  It  would 
do  little  good  to  put  men  in  boats  and  start  them 
across  three  hundred  yards  of  river  to  fight  their 


SEEIOUS  FIGHTING  169 

way  against  a  perfect  rain  of  machine-gun  bullets. 
That  would  be  hopeless.  Every  man  would  be 
killed  before  a  single  boat  could  reach  the  Turk- 
ish shore.  Somehow  or  other  the  Turks  must  not 
know  of  the  crossing.  We  looked  to  the  man  at 
the  helm,  General  Maude.  He  would  do  it,  we 
knew.    How  was  a  mystery,  but  not  for  long. 


CHAPTER  IX 

ACT  IV— THE  ROUT  OF  THE  TURKS— FIRST  PHASE 

*  *  We  ^re  attacking  at  Sanniyat !  * '  came  the  word. 
It  was  like  the  echo  of  the  beginning  of  the  cam- 
paign. But  that  had  been  a  feint.  This  was  real. 
It  was  only  the  day  after  the  surrender  of  the 
Turks  in  the  Dahra  bend.  The  news  was  as  much 
a  surprise  as  the  opening  of  the  campaign  had 
been.  For  the  British  to  take  Sanniyat  seemed 
almost  an  impossibility.  To  the  Turks  an  attempt 
at  it  seemed  madness.  But  madness  or  not,  the 
men  of  Scotland,  of  England,  and  of  India  made 
the  desperate  charge  across  the  deadly  No  Man's 
Land.  There  had  been  cahn  at  Sanniyat,  except 
for  occasional  showers  of  shells  and  bullets  and 
bombs,  from  the  time  of  the  opening  of  the  cam- 
paign, two  months  ago.  The  storm  had  long  held 
off.  Now  it  broke  with  a  crash.  The  Turks  were 
surprised  and  the  British  got  a  foothold  in  their 

170 


THE  EOUT  OF  THE  TURKS         171 

first  line.  But  there  was  no  time  to  consolidate 
before  the  Turks  were  back  as  though  the  British 
had  stepped  on  the  catch  that  let  drive  a  sledge 
hammer.  Casualties  were  heavy.  Our  troops  de- 
served the  victory  if  ever  anybody  did ;  but  it  was 
denied.  The  Turks  *^got  back  'ome.''  Sanniyat 
could  not  be  taken. 

Busy  days  followed  for  us  in  hospital — ^the  bus- 
iest of  the  year.  But  work  is  only  a  pleasure  when 
there  is  such  response  as  comes  from  wounded 
men.  Some  of  the  men  had  smoked  their  last 
**fags."  We  found  them  some  and  they  were  as 
thankful  as  though  we  had  found  them  bags  of 
gold.  Some  had  no  hands  to  hold  them  or  light 
them,  but  when  a  chum  stuck  one  into  another's 
mouth  and  held  a  match  to  it  a  smile  came  over  his 
face  with  a  meaning  that  words  could  not  express. 
At  night  the  pain  grew  worse  and  the  smiles  less 
broad,  but  there  was  never  a  whimper.  One  man 
had  copped  it  a  little  worse  than  he  could  stand 
and  was  gradually  approaching  the  time  to  ^*go 
west.''  He  whispered  to  ask  whether  he  might 
have  a  fag.  He  had  it  and  the  lines  of  his  face 
that  was  drawn  in  pain  relaxed  in  an  easy  smile. 


172   TO  BAGDAD  WITH  THE  BEITISH 

There  is  something  very  beautiful  about  the 
Tommy's  *  Agoing  west,"  to  the  land  of  the  gor- 
geous setting  sun,  to  the  land  of  peace  and  beauty 
into  which  the  great  red  ball  of  evening  goes  to 
rest.  The  men  of  that  attack  on  Sanniyat  de- 
served the  finest. 

There  was  something  in  the  air  that  spelled  a 
gigantic  move — and  very  soon.  The  two  great  ob- 
stacles remained:  one,  the  river  along  the  Dahra 
bend;  the  other,  the  Sanniyat  trenches  of  the 
Turks.  But  meeting  those  obstacles  with  a  su- 
preme effort  at  the  same  instant  would  be  too 
much  for  the  stretched-out  resources  of  the  Turks. 
They  might  hold  back  the  attack  at  Sanniyat  but 
they  could  not  hold  back  attacks  at  every  point  on 
the  river  for  miles. 

Now  every  inch  of  the  British  line  from  the 
Dahra  bend  to  Sanniyat  was  in  motion.  At  the 
Hai  parties  of  men  were  rowing  together,  prac- 
ticing for  the  final  sprint  of  the  big  race  for  Kut 
that  should  take  the  British  over  the  line,  victors. 
The  bridging  bands  of  engineers  were  working  on 
the  bridge  near  the  old  licorice  factory.  The 
Turks  saw  this  and  watched  keenly.    They  saw 


THE  EOUT  OF  THE  TUEKS         173 

the  British  get  ready  their  gun  positions  and  artil- 
lery observation  posts.  They  saw  them  get  all 
the  bridging  material  ready  for  the  leap  across 
the  river  while  a  barrage  of  shells  from  the  artil- 
lery should  make  hash  of  the  trenches  in  the  Kut 
peninsula.  They  saw  their  duty  also.  Down  came 
their  guns  to  the  peninsula,  and  their  machine 
guns  to  hidden  positions  where  they  could  forbid 
the  boats  of  the  British  from  crossing  the  river. 
They  were  ready. 

Five  days  had  passed  since  the  attack  at  Sanni- 
yat.  ^* Charge!*'  again  rang  out  the  order  there. 
There  was  more  at  stake  this  time.  Everything 
depended  on  success.  The  ** punch"  was  there, 
and  cutting  their  way  through  a  wall  of  lead  and  a 
maze  of  barbed  wire  the  Tommies,  Jocks  and  Se- 
poys found  themselves  again  in  the  first  line  of 
Turkish  Sanniyat,  the  untakable.  There  was  no 
stopping  them  this  time.  The  counter  attacks 
could  not  get  back  the  lost  land  for  the  Turks.  On 
moved  the  raging  battle  steadily  toward  the  sec- 
ond line.  Now  some  of  that  was  taken,  now  nearly 
all,  with  the  dead  strewn  thick  and  an  army  of 
wounded.    It  was  like  the  desperate  charge  of 


174  TO  BAGDAD  WITH  THE  BRITISH 

Towiisliend — ^just  before  his  check.  Again  there 
were  the  inevitable  desperate  counter  attacks. 
Once,  twice,  thrice  came  back  the  Turks,  wild  from 
the  loss  of  their  cherished  position.  All  Turkey 
and  the  Kaiser  besides  had  their  faith  in  the 
trenches  at  Sanniyat.  The  fourth  attack  was  ter- 
rific, and  it  seemed  successful.  The  British  left 
was  driven  out.  But  there  was  no  check  here. 
The  right  held  fast.  The  game  Scotchmen  of  the 
Seaforth  Highlanders  made  a  new  record  to  add 
to  their  list.  While  they  held  back  the  Turks  on 
the  right  and  helped  against  the  Turks  on  their 
left,  the  Indians  came  back  and  retook  the  lost  po- 
sition. The  British  could  counter-attack  as  well 
as  the  Turks.  This  was  the  last  straw.  Two  more 
Turkish  attacks  followed  these,  but  the  Turks  had 
lost  their  first  two  lines  of  wonderful  Sanniyat 
for  good. 

Something  was  stirring  far  away  on  the  other 
side  of  the  river.  The  British  were  getting  ready 
to  cross.  Turks  were  leaving  Kut  to  help  at 
Sanniyat.  Now  they  were  needed  at  both  places. 
They  began  to  get  rattled.  But  they  would  risk 
anything   to    get   back    their    famous    Sanniyat 


A  fire  trench  in  the  British  trenches  at  Sanniyat 
(From  a  pliotografli  hy  Mr.  Weir  Stewart). 


Old  mud  wells  of  the  Arabs  on  the  Tigris  near  Bagdad 


THE  EOUT  OF  THE  TUEKS         175 

trenches.  They  risked  too  much.  Grradually  the 
line  along  the  Turkish  side  of  the  river  near  Kut 
grew  thinner  and  less  confident. 

It  was  evening,  but  it  was  not  quiet.  Every 
little  while  the  Turks  heard  from  the  opposite  side 
of  the  river,  a  boat  launched  into  the  water,  or  the 
noise  of  a  cart  clanking  along  carrying  bridging 
material,  or  the  sound  of  men  talking  excitedly. 
Then  they  saw  a  boat  in  the  stream  and  '*let  go'' 
with  their  machine  guns.  Just  east  of  the  town  a 
party  gained  their  bank.  There  was  a  skirmish,  a 
gun  pulled  into  one  of  the  boats,  then  a  getaway 
before  Turks  could  reach  the  scene  in  sufficient 
numbers.  One  minute  there  was  noise  near  Kut 
where  they  had  seen  everything  prepared;  five 
minutes  later  there  was  noise  farther  down  the 
river  at  Magasis.  Slowly  but  surely  the  Turks 
were  concentrating  at  Kut  all  the  forces  they  did 
not  need  at  Sanniyat.  There  was  a  great  hubbub 
at  Kut.  The  British  were  trying  to  cross !  But 
were  they? 

The  eastern  sky  was  just  beginning  to  gather 
a  few  dim  traces  of  light  when  quietly,  calmly, 
some  boats  started  across  the  river  far  up  to  the 


176   TO  BAGDAD  WITH  THE  BRITISH 

west,  around  the  next  bend  of  the  river.  While 
the  enemy  machine  guns  sought  for  crossing 
parties  down  by  Kut  or  Magasis,  the  boats  were 
launched  at  Shumrun,  miles  away.  In  the  dark- 
ness three  parties  of  infantry  formed,  ready  to 
move  noiselessly  across  the  river.  There  was  not 
a  sound.  Not  a  wheel  squeaked  as  the  carts  moved 
over  the  ground;  not  a  man  spoke;  not  a  boat 
spattered  as  it  was  lowered  slowly  into  the  wa- 
ter. At  three  different  places  the  boats  went 
across.  The  fleet  farthest  east  caught  the  eye  of 
the  Turks  and  was  greeted  with  a  rain  of  ma- 
chine-gun bullets.  They  only  hoped  to  be  buffers 
for  the  parties  upstream,  and  they  did  their  job. 
There  were  so  many  killed  in  the  boats  that  they 
failed  to  get  across  themselves,  but  the  two  other 
parties  were  safer.  The  middle  party  gained  a 
footing  on  the  Turkish  bank,  almost  won  a  po- 
sition, then  fell  back  before  the  fire  from  the  Turk- 
ish machine  guns.  But  the  men  in  the  party  far- 
thest up  the  river  were  safe.  They  were  no  sooner 
across  than  there  were  some  three  hundred  Turk- 
ish prisoners  and  five  machine  guns  for  their  prize. 
It  was  over.    The  British  had  the  greater  number 


THE  EOUT  OF  THE  TUEKS         177 

of  men  at  the  crucial  place  at  the  proper  time.  It 
was  the  goal  of  all  military  strategy.  General 
Maude  had  won.  The  British  were  on  the  north- 
em  bank.  They  beat  back  the  Turks  to  get  a 
space  more  than  enough  for  the  engineers  to  work 
safely  on  the  bridge.  But  still  more  had  hap- 
pened. 

At  Sanniyat  the  Turks  were  losing  more  of 
their  precious  ground.  Almost  at  the  instant  that 
the  boats  crossed  the  Tigris  the  British  attacked 
at  Sanniyat.  The  third  line  fell  like  the  first  two. 
Then  the  fourth.  More  frantic  counter  attacks 
followed  this.  The  Turks  seemed  not  at  all  upset 
by  the  fact  that  the  British  were  crossing  behind 
them.  Perhaps  they  did  not  know.  Word  evi- 
dently came  very  suddenly  of  the  crossing  at 
Shumrun.  For  it  seemed  as  though  the  troops 
at  Sanniyat  were  just  getting  ready  for  another 
counter  attack  when  they  **cut  and  ran/'  trying 
hopelessly  to  check  the  advance  of  the  British 
while  filling  up  their  trenches  to  get  their  guns 
across  as  they  fled.  The  British  airmen  were 
after  them  now.  They  brought  down  two  Turk 
machines  and  flew  low  over  the  troops  as  they 


178  TO  BAGDAD  WITH  THE  BRITISH 

fled,  pouring  a  rain  of  shells  into  their  ranks. 
The  Turks  were  losing  everything. 

In  the  Shumrun  bend  Turkish  cavalry  and  in- 
fantry were  trying  to  get  down  along  the  west 
edge  of  the  peninsula  to  keep  the  British  from 
crossing  the  river.  But  the  bridge  was  fairly 
springing  across  the  water.  By  half  past  four  in 
the  afternoon  the  army  was  crossing.  The  bridge, 
built  in  nine  hours  across  a  river  in  flood,  three 
hundred  and  forty  yards  wide,  was  a  fact.  That 
was  the  end.  "With  the  British  crossing  over  the 
filled-in  trenches  at  Sanniyat,  and  crossing  the 
river  at  Shumrun,  there  was  no  hope  for  the  bul- 
wark at  Bagdad.    Kut  must  fall. 

The  artillery  made  short  work  of  the  attempts 
of  the  Turks  to  edge  their  way  down  the  penin- 
sula toward  the  bridge.  They  gave  that  up.  Then 
one  last  stand  they  made  at  the  top  of  the  penin- 
sula. They  wished  they  might  hold  the  British 
in  that  bend  the  way  their  men  were  enclosed  in 
the  Dahra  bend.  They  stood  long  enough  to  let 
the  troops  from  Sanniyat  get  past  Kut  and  then 
it  was  all  up.  Pell-mell  they  rushed  up  the  river, 
leaving  guns,  stores,  shells,  small-arm  ammuni- 


THE  EOUT  OF  THE  TURKS         179 

tion,  equipment,  bridgmg  material,  tents,  trench 
mortars,  strewn  over  the  country  in  their  wake. 
The  British  airplanes  again  swooped  down  on 
their  prey,  like  great  gulls  swooping  over  the 
surface  of  the  ocean.  They  were  in  their  element 
— and  inflicting  terrible  punishment. 

Another  branch  of  the  service  now  came  to  life 
— the  Royal  Navy.  The  war  in  Mesopotamia  was 
above  all  a  river  war.  The  army  which  once  got 
away  from  the  river  without  river  transport  and 
without  water  would  surely  be  lost.  Yet  the  navy 
had  had  little  to  do.  The  trenches  at  Sanniyat, 
lying,  as  they  did,  along  the  river  for  miles,  for- 
bade any  boat  to  pass  there.  There  were,  never- 
theless, a  few  things  the  insect-named  boats  could 
do.  They  were  fast  little  fellows,  could  make  over 
twenty  knots  upstream,  and  drew  only  three  feet 
of  water.  Sometimes  in  the  stilhiess  of  the  night 
they  sped  silently  up  the  stream,  through  the 
Turkish  lines,  shelled  an  unsuspecting  Turkish 
post  and  darted  back  downstream  to  safety. 
Sometimes  they  helped  in  an  attack  on  some 
trenches  by  acting  as  artillery  from  the  river  with 
their  stem  12-pounders. 


180  TO  BAGDAD  WITH  THE  BRITISH 

But  now  was  the  chance  they  had  waited  for 
from  the  beginning  of  the  campaign.  Tearing  up- 
stream at  full  speed,  five  of  them  were  soon 
abreast  of  the  retreating  Turks,  pouring  machine- 
gun  bullets  into  their  disorganized  ranks.  Up  be- 
yond the  Turks  were  the  Turkish  transports  and 
gunboats,  getting  away  with  all  possible  haste 
from  the  approaching  British  army  and  navy. 
The  Firefly,  captured  a  year  ago  from  the  Brit- 
ish, was  far  up  the  line.  To  chase  it  would  mean 
to  run  the  gauntlet  past  the  entire  Turkish  force 
near  the  bank.  The  Turks  were  now  making  a 
desperate  stand  to  check  the  advancing  British 
force,  and  their  artillery  was  in  action.  But  for 
the  monitors,  ** theirs  but  to  do  and  die" — and 
they  did.  One  after  another  the  three  larger  boats 
pushed  past  the  Turkish  artillery.  As  they  did  so 
the  Fireily,  which  they  were  chasing,  opened  fire 
over  the  low  land  from  around  the  bend  to  the  left. 
"With  land  artillery  pouring  shell  at  the  starboard 
side  and  the  gunboat  at  the  port  side,  it  was  in- 
deed running  the  gauntlet.  The  first  boat  got 
barely  a  scratch,  the  second  more,  a  shell  through 
the  funnel  and  a  deck  full  of  shrapnel — ^the  artil- 


THE  EOUT  OF  THE  TUEKS         181 

lery  was  finding  the  range.  Then  came  the  third, 
H.M.S.  Moth.  The  artillery  had  the  range  now,  to 
the  foot.  The  boat^s  machine  gunners  were  swept 
off  the  deck,  everyone  wounded.  Shells  began 
plunging  through  the  deck  and  sides,  and  shrapnel 
and  rifle  bullets  made  the  deck  and  stacks  look  like 
sieves.  One  shell  got  into  the  engine  room,  but  it 
was  a  *Mud''  and  failed  to  explode.  The  doctor 
tried  to  treat  the  wounded  on  the  gun  deck  but  he 
was  soon  hit  himself — and  the  wounds  had  to  wait. 
Finally  the  Moth  got  through  the  rain  of  shells 
and  bullets  and  opened  her  big  stem  six-inch  gun 
on  the  Turks  along  the  shore.  The  execution  was 
immense. 

The  Fire-fly  was  recaptured  along  with  several 
other  boats,  and  the  flotilla  sped  down  the  river. 
The  Moth  came  to  our  pier  to  put  off  her  dead  and 
wounded.  I  was  on  a  paddle  boat  convoy  crowded 
with  Tommies,  about  three  hundred  of  them, 
wounded  in  the  final  dash  for  Kut.  The  Moth 
swung  around  a  bend,  passed  us,  turned  upstream 
and  pulled  up  alongside.  She  had  eight  big  shells 
holes  in  her  armor,  one  dangerously  near  the  wa- 
ter line.     The  stretcher-bearers  brought  off  the 


182  TO  BAGDAD  WITH  THE  BRITISH 

wounded  and  dead  of  the  crew.  They  had  stood 
at  their  tasks  like  men  and  as  we  watched  the  pro- 
cession of  stretchers  leave  the  boat  everyone  felt 
a  thrill  of  pride  at  being  a  part  of  the  force  that 
had  such  a  gallant  navy.  Not  long  after,  the  Fire- 
fly came  down  under  her  own  power,  a  Union  Jack 
flying  over  the  Turkish  crescent  ensign. 

The  accounts  of  the  latest  startling  events  from 
the  mouths  of  the  wounded  Tommies  were  numer- 
ous and  diverse.  The  men  were  so  excited  they  did 
not  want  to  stay  in  the  hospital  a  minute.  Nor 
did  any  of  the  rest  of  us.  Fortunately  there  was 
to  be  new  work  for  the  stage  hands  in  the  city  of 
Bagdad  as  soon  as  the  troops  should  get  there, 
and  I  was  fortunate  enough  to  be  one  of  those  to 
go  to  the  famous  city  as  soon  as  it  became  a  city 
of  the  British.  Everyone  of  the  wounded  Tom- 
mies was  eager  to  go  along  back  with  me  to  follow 
the  fleeing  Turks  into  Bagdad.  For  there  was  no 
more  talk  or  thought  of  Kut.  Kut  was  a  thing 
of  the  distant  past.  It  was  Bagdad  we  were  fight- 
ing for  now.  One  man  in  the  cavalry  was  so  anx- 
ious to  get  back  with  his  regiment  that  he  could 
not  be  kept  in  bed  with  his  wound.    He  had  a  bul- 


THE  EOUT  OF  THE  TURKS         183 

let  through  his  leg,  but  after  two  days  in  dock  he 
got  up,  made  his  bed,  and  refused  to  get  into  it 
again.  To  call  his  bluff,  the  doctors  shipped  him 
into  the  convalescent  camp.  There  he  was  exam- 
ined and  found  unfit,  with  the  wound  still  fresh. 
**If  you  will  get  two  pair  of  boxing  gloves,  Sir,  I 
think  I  can  show  anyone  here  that  I  am  fit,  Sir,'* 
he  said.  **  All  right.  Trot  along  on  the  next  boat," 
was  the  response.  He  was  the  liveliest  man  in  the 
camp  and  while  he  waited  overnight  for  his  boat, 
he  entertained  an  audience  of  over  a  thousand 
wounded  gathered  in  an  opening  in  the  clump  of 
palms  near  the  camp.  The  weather  was  mild 
enough  to  allow  the  wounded  to  hobble  around 
outside  and  all  were  there  who  could  get  out  of 
bed  to  watch  the  show.  One  fellow  who  had  been 
a  comic  opera  singer  in  London  got  some  chums  to 
carry  him  from  his  bed  and  prop  him  up  on  the 
stage  so  he  could  sit  in  the  open-air  **  concert 
halP'  and  sing. 

There  were  a  great  many  such  as  he,  who  had 
left  the  advance,  wounded,  just  as  the  rout  was 
surely  off  for  Bagdad.  They  did  want  so  to  enter 
the  city  with  the  victorious  army — ^not  that  it  was 


184  TO  BAGDAD  WITH  THE  BRITISH 

Bagdad.  They  would  probably  get  a  chance  to  see 
Bagdad  later.  But  the  chance  to  enter  the  city 
with  the  first  entrance  of  the  British  was  what 
they  wanted.  But  they  were  too  badly  wounded 
for  that. 

There  was  something  to  console  them  in  the 
trophies  they  brought  down  from  the  rout.  One 
man  had  a  splendid  gold  watch  made  in  Constan- 
tinople, once  the  property  of  a  Turkish  officer. 
Another  had  a  dirty  balaklava  hat  that  he  said 
he  took  off  the  head  of  a  Turk,  the  rest  of  the  fel- 
low being  nowhere  to  be  seen.  Evidently  the 
Arabs  had  had  a  grudge  against  him.  It  was  like 
the  stories  of  the  French  front  when  a  proud 
Tommy  comes  back  to  the  trenches  with  a  German 
officer  *s  sword  tied  around  his  waist.  Every  man 
tried  his  best  to  get  some  souvenir  of  the  Turks 
as  his  share  of  the  ^* spoil.'' 

The  prisoners  began  to  come  in.  Some  of  them 
were  Germans.  There  were  Germans  on  a  Turk- 
ish gunboat,  and  some  Germans  on  the  gun  crews 
of  the  artillery.  But  only  a  handful  had  got  so  far 
away  from  the  homeland.  Only  one  German  offi- 
cer was  located,  killed  at  the  crossing  of  the  Ti- 


THE  EOUT  OF  THE  TUEKS         185 

gris.  The  Germans  swore  continually  at  the 
Turks  and  the  Turks  returned  the  sentiment  with 
interest.  Surely  the  alliance  of  the  Central  Pow- 
ers is  no  love  match. 

On  the  rout  they  were  all  in  the  same  trouble. 
With  cavalry  to  the  right,  gunboats  to  the  left, 
and  infantry  and  artillery  to  the  rear,  the  retreat 
was  fraught  with  tremendous  difficulties.  The 
army  became  more  and  more  disorganized  and  de- 
moralized. They  tried  to  get  their  guns  away  but 
that  was  impossible.  Many  of  them  they  threw 
into  the  river.  Their  wreckage  was  left  strewn 
over  the  whole  country,  and  there  were  every- 
where signs  of  panic:  bullocks  entangled  in  the 
ropes  and  chains  of  the  carts;  guns  with  broken 
wheels ;  motor  cars  with  parts  of  guns  stuck  in  the 
engines  to  render  them  useless  to  the  British; 
carts  overturned  and  their  contents  lying  all  over 
the  ground ;  oil  drums,  boots,  hats,  telephone  wire, 
tents,  everything  destroyed  or  half  destroyed;, 
piles  of  equipment  in  flames  in  the  attempt  to 
make  it  useless  to  the  British;  oil  poured  over 
things  and  left,  where  there  had  been  no  time  to 
finish  the  burning.    Farther  along  there  were  the 


186  TO  BAGDAD  WITH  THE  BRITISH 

wounded  Turks  whom  the  Arab  marauders  or  the 
deserters  from  the  Turks  had  caught,  looted,  and 
left  with  wounds  of  the  meanest  sort  to  die  on  the 
field.  Some  of  the  wounded  tried  in  vain  to  get  to 
the  British  and  become  prisoners,  only  to  be 
stripped  and  cut  by  the  bloodthirsty  Arabs.  For 
four  days  the  havoc  kept  up.  Four  thousand  pris- 
oners, thirty-nine  guns,  twenty-two  mortars  and 
eleven  machine  guns  was  the  toll  of  captures. 

Then  it  was  time  to  think  it  over.  In  the  same 
place  where  Townshend  had  stopped  after  his 
dramatic  capture  of  Kut,  the  new  army  under 
General  Maude  now  stopped,  at  Azizie.  After  the 
halt  of  Townshend,  had  come  the  decision  for  the 
fatal  advance  on  Bagdad,  against  Townshend 's 
advice.  There  need  be  no  decision  now.  The 
troops  were  already  off  for  Bagdad.  But  they 
must  stop  and  get  settled.  Eighty  miles  of  new 
territory  had  to  be  organized  and  protected.  A 
new  line  of  communications  was  a  big  undertak- 
ing when  they  had  to  keep  up  transport  from 
Busra  to  Azizie.  There  were  all  the  ruins  of  the 
Turkish  retreat  to  be  collected  and  taken  care  of. 
The  Turks  had  left  two-thirds  of  their  artillery, 


THE  EOUT  OF  THE  TUEKS         187 

including  every  one  of  the  5.9  howitzers,  and 
though  they  had  thrown  many  of  them  into  the 
water,  the  guns  were  still  visible  and  might  be 
pulled  back  on  the  bank. 

Nothing  but  encouraging  word  came  from  Lon- 
don now.  There  was  no  bogey  of  **A  safe  game 
must  be  played  in  Mesopotamia, ''  or  any  discus- 
sion as  to  the  possibilities  of  the  force.  *  *  Trans- 
port, supply  and  hospital  services  are  as  well  done 
as  in  any  campaign  in  the  whole  history  of  the 
world''  was  the  statement  made  this  time  in  Lon- 
don. 

Nearly  a  week  was  necessary  to  make  every- 
thing ready  to  continue  the  advance.  The  Turks 
were  again  at  the  position  from  which  they  threw 
General  Townshend  back,  over  a  year  before,  and 
caused  all  the  trouble.  They  were  too  demoral- 
ized to  make  any  great  stand  here  now.  And  be- 
sides they  had  no  guns  but  what  might  come  down 
to  them  from  Bagdad.  There  was  no  time  for  any 
reenforcements  to  come  from  Persia  or  Palestine. 
Both  those  ^* shows"  were  up  in  the  air  about  the 
retreat.  The  Turks  in  Persia  were  being  supplied 
from  Bagdad.    With  Bagdad  fallen  they  would 


188  TO  BAGDAD  WITH  THE  BRITISH 

need  all  they  had  in  men  and  guns  to  hold  their 
own.  And  Palestine  was  across  the  awful  Ara- 
bian desert.  The  Turks  there  were  too  far  away 
to  help — and  if  they  did  leave  Palestine  to  help, 
the  British  would  advance  on  Jerusalem.  There 
was  no  hope  for  Bagdad  this  time.  The  treasured 
town  of  Kut  had  fallen  and  the  trenches  at  Sanni- 
yat  were  nothing  but  a  jumbled  mass  of  dirt. 
Great  Sanniyat,  on  which  the  Turks  had  pinned 
their  hope,  was  gone. 


CHAPTEE  X 

ACT  V— THE  ROUT  OF  THE  TURKS— SECOND  PHASE 

It  was  the  fifth  of  March,  just  ten  days  after  the 
crossing  of  the  Tigris.  The  Turks,  afraid  to  make 
another  stand,  moved  out  of  their  trenches  before 
the  British  advanced  to  attack.  They  moved  right 
on  past  Ctesiphon,  past  the  great  old  arch  that 
had  been  the  gloomy  signal  of  defeat  to  Town- 
shend  and  was  the  challenge  to  Maude  as  the  Brit- 
ish force  concentrated  at  Azizie. 

From  Kut  to  Ctesiphon,  to  Bagdad.  So  the 
Arab  pilots  of  the  days  of  Smdhad  staged  their 
journeys  up  the  winding  Tigris.  Now  the  British 
armies  were  staging  their  journeys  in  the  same 
way.  Once  the  last  stage,  to  Bagdad,  was  denied. 
Now  the  path  was  open.  The  British  force  moved 
out  of  Azizie  and  on  to  Bagdad. 

Fifteen  miles  south  of  Bagdad  the  river  Diala 
flows  from  the  northeast  into  the  Tigris.     The 

189 


190  TO  BAGDAD  WITH  THE  BRITISH 

Turks  fled  across  the  Diala  and  took  up  a  position 
on  tlie  north  bank  just  as  the  British  reached  the 
south  bank.  The  machine  guns  of  the  Turks  for- 
bade the  British  to  cross,  yet  before  the  British 
artillery  could  get  into  position  after  its  rapid 
pursuit  of  the  Turks  along  the  Tigris  a  body  of 
infantry  attempted  to  cross  in  the  face  of  the 
Turkish  guns. 

A  man  who  was  in  that  first  attempt  to  cross  the 
Diala  told  me  the  story  not  long  after.  ^*We  got 
there  on  the  seventh,"  he  said.  **With  the  moon 
an'  all,  the  night  was  light  as  day.  Before  there 
was  time  for  the  guns  to  get  into  action,  there 
came  a  call  for  volunteers  to  cross  the  river  in 
boats.  'I  could  do  with  a  bit  of  armor  plate,'  says 
one.  '  Carry  on ! '  says  another.  Pretty  soon  half 
a  dozen  boats  were  in  the  river  just  above  where 
it  met  the  Tigris.  I  was  in  one  of  them.  We  were 
paddlin'  over  easy  as  you  please.  It  didn't  look 
far  across  the  river — ^mebbe  a  hundred  yards — 
but  when  we  were  only  halfway  across,  oP  Abdul 
gets  his  wind  up  and  lets  go  with  his  machine 
guns.  It  was  all  up  with  us.  There  wasn't  one 
that  didn't  cop  it  somewhere.    I  was  luckiest  of 


THE  EOUT  OF  THE  TURKS         191 

the  lot.  I  only  got  a  cnshy  one.  But  we  didn^t  get 
across  by  a  long  shot.  More  chaps  tried  after  that 
and  then  more.  But  there  was  no  crossin'.  Our 
boat  drifted  downstream  and  we  got  picked  up  by 
hospital  gangs  an'  gravediggers. " 

But  General  Marshall's  force  could  not  be 
checked  by  one  failure.  Any  force  that  could  do 
what  his  force  had  done  on  the  Hai,  in  the  Kadairi 
bend  and  at  Shumrun,  could  get  across  the  little 
river  Diala  sooner  or  later.  It  was  evident  to 
everyone  that  it  would  be  sooner. 

Next  day  the  force  prepared  for  the  second  at- 
tempt at  crossing.  The  force  under  General 
Cobbe,  the  one  which  had  fought  at  Sanniyat, 
crossed  the  Tigris  to  the  west  bank,  just  below  the 
mouth  of  the  Diala  river,  and  swung  up  the  Tigris 
across  the  river  from  General  Marshall's  force. 
The  crossing  was  none  too  soon.  As  a  last  resort, 
the  Turks  were  trying  to  get  down  the  river  on 
that  side  to  hold  the  British  away  from  their 
sacred  city.  There  was  a  considerable  force  of 
them  not  far  upstream  from  the  crossing. 

Further  action  hinged  on  the  success  of  the  next 
attempt  to  cross  the  Diala.  Once  across  there,  the 


192  TO  BAGDAD  WITH  THE  BRITISH 

two  British  columns  could  march  for  Bagdad 
along  both  banks  of  the  river  Tigris.  At  night 
again,  men  were  called  for  to  cross  the  river.  What 
followed  rivals  anything  in  the  range  of  military 
annals.  Behind  a  barrage  of  dust  and  dirt  thrown 
up  by  a  rain  of  shells,  sixty  men  of  the  North  Lan- 
cashire regiment  got  their  boats  across,  and 
gained  a  footing  on  the  Turkish  bank.  They  found 
a  natural  defense  in  a  dried-up  water  cut,  near  the 
bank  of  the  river.  Here  they  determined  to  stay, 
and  stay  they  did;  just  sixty  of  them  facing 
twenty  times  their  number.  The  machine  guns  of 
the  British  sent  a  stream  of  bullets  across  to  help 
the  little  force  break  up  the  Turkish  attacks. 
Time  after  time  masses  of  Turks  rushed  at  the 
little  position,  cut  their  way  through  the  machine- 
gun  bullets  from  across  the  river  and  through  the 
rifle  bullets  of  the  little  band,  right  up  to  the  men 
themselves,  only  to  fall  back,  beaten  by  an  invin- 
cible little  body  of  Englishmen.  All  night  they  at- 
tacked, and  all  night  were  driven  back.  Next  day 
the  men  stuck  at  their  posts,  though  there  was 
still  no  way  of  getting  men  across  to  help  them 
in  the  light  of  day.    Ammunition  was  getting  very 


THE  EOUT  OF  THE  TURKS         193 

low.  A  dozen  or  so  were  put  out  of  it  and  the 
rest  took  their  bullets.  From  the  south  bank 
their  fellows  were  trying  in  vain  to  send  over 
ammunition  tied  to  skyrockets.  Each  time  the 
aim  was  better  and  the  rockets  came  nearer  the 
bank.  But  not  one  got  all  the  way.  What  re- 
mained of  the  sixty  men  had  to  '^  stick  it"  with 
what  they  had.  Night  came  again,  the  third  night 
of  attacks  on  the  Diala.  There  had  been  no  chance 
for  rest,  but  the  men  in  the  little  trench  on  the 
Turkish  bank  of  the  river  felt  no  need  of  rest. 
Midnight  came  and  still  they  were  holding  their 
own.  They  had  been  there  over  twenty-four  hours 
now.  The  Turks  were  getting  hopeful  that  per- 
haps they  had  checked  the  advance  up  the  Tigris. 
But  a  new  surprise  was  in  store.  WhUe  on  the 
west  side  of  the  Tigris  General  Cobbe  's  force  was 
marching  toward  Bagdad,  General  MarshalPs 
force  on  the  Diala  marched  farther  up  that  little 
river,  shot  a  bridge  across  and  swung  around  be- 
hind the  Turks  before  they  knew  what  was  up. 
Some  who  were  still  firing  at  the  men  that  re- 
mained of  the  dogged  little  band  were  bayoneted 
from  the  rear.     Forty  men  of  the  sixty  North 


194  TO  BAGDAD  WITH  THE  BRITISH 

Lancasliires  remained  alive,  and  they  rejoined 
their  comrades  proud  as  Punch  at  what  they  had 
done.  Another  pell-mell  retreat  began,  and  the 
two  forces  on  either  side  of  the  Tigris  marched 
toward  Bagdad,  just  a  day's  march  away. 

That  one  day  saw  a  great  many  happenings  in 
the  realms  of  the  Turks.  It  was  the  last  chance 
for  the  Turks  in  Bagdad  to  destroy  everything 
that  could  be  of  use  to  the  British.  They  had  been 
busy  at  the  task  for  many  days,  as  with  Kut  gone 
there  was  no  real  hope  for  Bagdad.  But  here  was 
the  last  chance.  They  must  get  everything  they 
could  out  of  the  city,  destroy  what  they  could  not 
move,  and  get  away  themselves.  The  '^ brave'' 
German  staff  officers  who  had  been  *' directing" 
operations  from  their  cool  cellars  in  Bagdad  were 
well  on  their  way  to  Constantinople.  They  were 
not  waiting  till  they  would  have  to  run  for  their 
lives.  The  German  operators  at  the  great  wire- 
less station  in  Bagdad  had  sent  to  Berlin  the  news 
of  the  Turkish  reverses  and  the  approaching  loss 
of  Bagdad,  and  had  then  destroyed  the  immense 
wireless  tower.  They  had  destroyed  or  tried  to 
destroy  all  the  railway  material  of  the  Berlin- 


THE  ROUT  OF  THE  TURKS         195 

Bagdad  Railway  in  Bagdad — and  then  had  gone, 
with  what  of  the  railway  could  be  moved,  to  the 
other  end  of  that  section  of  the  line,  Samarra,  on 
their  way  to  Berlin. 

The  Turks  had  only  a  few  hours  now  in  which 
to  finish  up  the  work  of  removing  and  destroying, 
and  to  get  out  of  the  city  themselves.  All  the 
townspeople  of  Bagdad,  whether  Syrians,  Chal- 
deans, Arabs,  Armenians,  Sabeans,  Persians  or 
Jews,  were  glad  to  see  the  Turks  pack  up  and 
leave.  There  was  hardly  a  dissenting  voice  in  the 
general  approval  of  the  departure  of  the  unspeak- 
able Turks.  They  had  been  taking  from  the  towns- 
people for  months  to  feed  and  supply  the  troops, 
and  it  had  become  absolute  brigandage  during  the 
last  weeks.  Not  only  supplies,  but  men  also,  were 
pressed  into  the  service.  The  order  was  expected 
from  Constantinople  which  would  press  into  the 
service  of  the  Turks  every  man  and  boy  within 
reach.  All  and  more  would  be  needed  to  stop  the 
British.  What  if  they  were  not  Turks?  They 
would  have  to  fight  for  them  just  the  same.  For- 
tunately the  order  did  not  arrive  until  too  late. 
The  British  were  coming  and  there  was  no  time 


196  TO  BAGDAD  WITH  THE  BRITISH 

to  train  fresh  troops  to  stop  them.  For  the  Bag- 
daddies  everything  was  to  be  gained  and  nothing 
to  be  lost  by  getting  rid  of  Turkish  ^^ protection." 

By  evening  the  British  were  a  few  miles  from 
the  city  and  the  Turks  were  ready  to  leave.  The 
Turkish  troops  were  coming  up  past  the  city  in 
their  retreat.  The  officers  in  Bagdad  were  piling 
their  luggage  on  the  last  train  to  pull  out  and  take 
them  to  safety.  Finally,  in  the  night,  there  was  a 
great  whistle,  an  engine  chugged  otf  slowly,  then 
faster  and  faster.  Bagdad  heard  the  last  of  the 
Turks.    They  were  gone  forever. 

But  there  was  something  worse  now,  something 
which,  unfortunately,  few  had  foreseen.  The 
Kurds,  great  strong  men  who  had  come  from  the 
land  bordering  Armenia,  the  riif-raff  of  Bagdad's 
slums,  began  to  loot  the  city.  Thousands  of  them 
rushed  through  the  streets,  through  the  bazaars 
and  the  narrow  winding  lanes  of  the  town,  ripping 
down  a  door  here,  a  wall  there,  fighting  for  the 
goods  in  the  houses  and  shops,  piling  their  backs 
high  with  loot;  then  hurrying  on  to  hide  their 
illgotten  gains  that  they  might  rush  back  for  more. 
In  every  street  they  could  be  heard,  hacking  at 


THE  ROUT  OF  THE  TURKS         197 

doors,  screaming,  cutting  one  another,  falling  over 
each  other,  in  their  wild  greed  for  gain. 

The  townspeople  were  now  terror-stricken. 
They  had  been  terribly  abused  by  the  Turks,  but 
even  under  them  no  such  terror  had  been  roused 
as  by  this  awful  riot  of  the  Kurds.  None  of  the 
people  found  any  sleep  as  the  havoc  grew  and 
grew  in  its  intensity.  If  the  British  would  only 
come  they  would  stop  it  all !  Why  had  they  not 
followed  the  Turks  right  into  the  city!  They 
were  near  enough,  judging  from  the  sound  of  the 
guns.  The  inhabitants  had  lived  through  the  last 
day  of  Turkish  rule  expecting  to  see  the  British 
enter  at  any  moment.  They  had  thought  the  Brit- 
ish would  prevent  the  looting  by  the  Kurds.  But 
it  had  come,  and  they  were  unprepared.  The 
owners  of  the  little  shops  in  the  bazaars,  as  they 
lay  in  their  houses,  saw  visions  of  their  goods 
spread  broadcast  in  the  streets  or  hidden  in  dirty 
hovels  in  the  rottenest  part  of  the  city.  The  deal- 
ers in  rugs,  in  jewelry,  in  fancy  furniture  saw  in 
fancy  their  wares  thrown  in  heaps  by  men  who 
had  no  idea  of  their  value;  the  rugs  ripped 
and  frayed,  the  jewelry  broken  to  bits,  as  the 


198  TO  BAGDAD  WITH  THE  BRITISH 

Kurds  grabbed  for  the  things  and  ripped  them 
apart  in  their  fighting,  the  furniture  broken  and 
torn  as  the  great  giants  carried  it  through  the 
streets  on  their  backs,  crashing  up  against  each 
other,  shoving  and  pulling,  each  one  made  in  his 
eagerness  to  get  the  greatest  share  of  loot.  Ev- 
erything would  be  either  gone  or  destroyed! 

Greater  and  greater  grew  the  havoc,  higher 
and  higher  the  excitement,  till  the  word  came, 
''EmsJie'' — *'get  out."  For  the  British  were 
coming  at  last.  The  noise  gradually  died  down, 
the  respectable  citizens,  one  by  one,  came  out  of 
their  houses,  where  they  had  spent  a  sleepless, 
anxious  night.  Some  of  the  bazaar  keepers  came 
to  see  what  had  been  left  of  their  stock  and  to 
weep  when  they  saw  doors  battered  down  and 
their  few  remaining  possessions  lying  about  in 
the  dust. 

Slowly  the  streets  filled  with  the  townspeople, 
moving  toward  the  gates  to  greet  the  victors. 
Some  of  the  more  desperate  of  the  Kurds  were 
still  at  their  riotous  work.  The  crowd  of  towns- 
people grew  larger,  more  expectant,  more  excited. 


THE  ROUT  OF  THE  TURKS         199 

They  crowded  together,  pushing  and  pulling  to 
get  near  the  front  to  see  what  was  happening. 

Their  fears  of  the  Turks  and  then  of  the  Kurds 
had  given  place  to  a  great  rejoicing  at  the  pros- 
pect of  the  British  entry.  All  different  races  and 
religions  were  there,  dressed  in  their  finest  gowns, 
to  greet  their  new  protectors,  their  saviors;  the 
men,  most  of  them  in  their  red  fezzes  or  dark  tur- 
bans and  kerchiefs  and  their  long  girdled  robes, 
the  women  in  all  their  holiday  finery,  silk  robes, 
lace  veils,  bracelets  and  fancy  little  slippers  with 
pointed  toes.  They  could  hardly  wait  for  the  tri- 
umphal entry. 

Then  came  the  troops.  They  got  to  the  railway 
station,  across  the  river  from  the  city,  just  before 
seven  o'clock.  An  advance  guard  entered  the 
city  and  men  were  immediately  stationed  to  keep 
order.  Excitement  was  higher  than  ever  now. 
The  welcome  was  warm.  The  Bagdaddies  lined 
the  streets  as  the  soldiers  entered,  and  shouted 
and  saluted  enthusiastically  in  evidence  of  the 
good-will  they  felt.  Every  face  was  lifted  in 
praise  of  the  savior.  No  more  would  Turkish  rule 
set  tribe  against  tribe,  race  against  race,  to  the  ut- 


200  TO  BAGDAD  WITH  THE  BRITISH 

ter  destruction  of  all  order  and  hope.    The  Brit- 
ish had  really  come. 

But  no  sooner  had  they  come  than  they  were 
gone.  There  was  no  stopping  to  have  a  good  look 
at  the  city  that  England  had  fought  for  through 
two  great  campaigns.  There  was  still  work  to  be 
done.  The  Turks  had  to  be  driven  far  away — up 
into  the  hills,  if  necessary.  Bagdad  must  not  be 
lost  again.  Up  the  Diala  and  up  the  Tigris  the 
British  chased  the  Turks.  Twenty  miles  away 
from  their  lost  city  they  made  a  desperate  attempt 
to  stop.  The  British  were  worn  out  by  the  labor  of 
chasing  the  enemy  all  the  way  from  Kut.  There 
had  been  weeks  with  little  rest,  and  hours  and 
hours  with  no  water.  But  the  spirit  was  just  the 
same.  Again  they  savagely  attacked  the  Turks. 
The  Black  Watch,  the  famous  Scottish  regiment, 
moved  on  at  top  speed  for  two  nights  and  a  day 
after  getting  to  Bagdad,  its  men  still  fighting 
hard.  The  Turks  fell  back  farther  and  farther. 
Bagdad  was  forever  safe.  All  that  Townshend 
had  fought  and  suffered  for  was  won.  Bagdad 
was  a  British  protectorate,  and  the  Turks  were 
far  away. 


British  troops  moving  through  a  Bagdad  street 


Indian  troops  entering  Bagdad  through  a  heavy  dust 

storm 

{From  a  photograph  by  Mr.   Weir  Stewart), 


THE  EOUT  OF  THE  TUEKS         201 

While  the  troops  were  making  Bagdad  safe,  I 
was  a  passenger  on  a  paddle  boat  upon  which  sup- 
plies and  fresh  troops  were  being  hurried  up  the 
winding  river  to  the  newly  taken  city.  We  were 
turning  the  last  bend  before  the  city  just  as  the 
sun  was  rising.  There,  through  the  mist,  we  could 
see  the  shimmery  City  of  the  Caliphs.  All  that 
the  wondrous  tales  of  the  *^ Arabian  Nights''  had 
told  lay  half  concealed  through  that  veiling  mist. 
The  domes  and  the  minarets  of  the  mosques  so 
perfect  in  form,  the  clusters  of  palms,  the  fruit  or- 
chards and  the  old  wall  to  keep  out  the  hordes  of 
** Infidels,''  all  were  there — the  City  of  Golden 
Domes  and  the  palace  of  Earov/n-al-Raschid.  We 
steamed  nearer,  the  mist  cleared,  and  there  was 
the  tumbledown  city  of  a  Turkish  Pasha,  fallen 
from  the  grandeur  of  the  Caliphate.  Nearer  still 
we  moved,  and  now  there  was  more  to  be  seen: 
men  swarming  over  the  ridge  to  the  north,  im- 
proving defenses,  cavalry  riding  off  to  recon- 
noiter,  paddle  boats  in  the  river,  camps  in  the 
palms,  and  everywhere  British  flags.  It  was  the 
British  city  of  Bagdad. 

We  anchored  in  midstream,  not  far  from  the 


202    TO  BAGDAD  WITH  THE  BRITISH 

first  buildings  of  the  city.  As  we  lay  there  quietly, 
thinking  of  Bagdad  and  all  it  meant,  there  was  a 
distant  rumble  of  guns.  Ah  I  Bagdad  was  safe. 
It  seemed  to  come  to  reassure  us  as  we  arrived  at 


The  British  city  of  Bagdad. 

the  city  that  had  cost  so  much  to  take.    It  would 
not  be  lost  again. 

On  the  west  bank  there  were  palm  groves  for 
miles,  and  in  them  the  camps  of  the  Tommies. 
Not  far  up  the  river  was  the  camp  of  the  Scotch- 
men, with  their  kilties.     Weary  and  worn,  they 


THE  ROUT  OF  THE  TURKS         203 

were  back  in  camp  while  others  were  doing  their 
part  in  chasing  the  Turks.  During  the  first 
twenty-one  days  of  the  rout  of  the  Turks,  the 
Black  Watch  had  marched  a  hundred  and  sixty 
miles  through  the  dust  and  had  fought  three  de- 
cisive battles.  Indeed  they  had  done  their  bit. 
Now  they  could  get  a  glimpse  of  the  city  that  they 
had  helped  so  much  to  take  and  to  make  safe. 

But  now  that  they  were  there,  what  did  they 
see?  Luxurious,  gaudy,  mystic  Bagdad? — city  of 
golden  domes,  of  genii,  Aladdin,  Ali  Baha,  Sind- 
hadf  No,  not  this.  Just  a  Mesopotamian  objec- 
tive, a  mud  town  with  its  dust  and  heat.  But 
what  of  that?  Those  men,  who  fought  for  it, 
would  not  have  been  stirred  if  Bagdad  had  still 
been  the  glorious  city  of  gold.  In  their  tired  state 
there  was  no  room  for  thoughts  of  such  things. 
One  thing  they  knew.  They  had  had  to  fight  like 
mad  to  take  the  place  and  now  it  was  theirs.  They 
were  glad — that  they  had  done  their  bit.  Noth- 
ing else  stirred  them.  They  little  thought  of  the 
Bagdad  of  story.  Nothing  on  earth  or  in  fairy- 
land made  any  difference  if  only  they  could  say 
'^Wewon!'' 


204  TO  BAGDAD  WITH  THE  BRITISH 

Would  that  Townshend  could  have  seen  them 
there,  triumphant  but  not  boastful,  glad  but  not 
conceited,  proud  but  silent.  I  hope  it  was  not  long 
before  the  news  reached  his  prison  island  in  the 
Bosphorus,  that  he  might  rejoice  with  the  world 
that  Bagdad  was  wrested  from  the  Turks  and  join 
with  the  world  in  the  hearty  thanksgiving  that 
the  march  of  the  British  to  Bagdad  was  now  nobly 
completed. 

For  England  Townshend  had  made  the  doomed 
drive  for  Bagdad.  For  England  he  had  suffered  in 
the  heartbreaking,  losing  fight  against  starvation. 
Maude,  living  and  working  in  the  wretched  cli- 
mate of  Mesopotamia,  his  health  failing  till  he 
faced  death,  fought  and  won,  that  Townshend 
should  not  have  suffered  in  vain. 

Townshend  suffered  for  England.  Maude  suf- 
fered but  won  for  Townshend  and  England.  Bag- 
dad was  British. 


CHAPTER  XI 
BAGDAD,   THE  BRITISH  PRIZE 

Our  boat  lay  in  midstream  while  the  skipper 
whistled  for  space  along  the  bank.  A  dozen  or  so 
paddle  boats,  wedged  up  against  one  another 
along  the  shore,  were  unloading  supplies  on  the 
high  river  bank.  Armies  of  coolies  were  swarm- 
ing over  the  boats,  the  barges  and  the  shore, 
marching  back  and  forth  between  the  boats  and 
the  shore  over  long  springy  gangplanks,  piling 
boxes,  bags,  wood,  oil-tins,  ammunition,  equip- 
ment, everything  in  great  pyramids  behind  the 
bank  and  the  bund.  The  new  city  had  to  have 
many  things  and  in  a  hurry.  The  city  was  just 
changing  hands.  And  Bagdad  is  far  from  Busra, 
and  Busra  far  from  England. 

A  month  ago  that  bank  was  covered  with  Turk- 
ish supplies,  on  their  way  down  the  river  to  their 
front.  Three  weeks  ago  these  supplies  were  dis- 
appearing as  the  rout  from  Kut  came  near  Bag- 

205 


206   TO  BAGDAD  WITH  THE  BRITISH 

dad.  Two  weeks  ago  the  last  of  the  Turks  were 
gone.  Now  here  were  the  stores  of  the  British 
army,  piled  up  as  though  the  place  had  always 
been  used  as  their  storehouse.  Behold  the  cap- 
tured city!  What  had  been  was  no  more.  **An 
army  moves  on  its  stomach. ' '  Here  was  the  great 
new  base  of  supplies  and  the  armies  were  pro- 
ceeding north,  east  and  west,  like  a  fan. 

We  heard  a  faint  rumbling  of  guns.  They 
seemed  to  come  from  off  to  the  east.  The  troops 
marching  along  the  Diala  were  fighting  back  the 
Turks. 

The  boat  was  snuggling  into  the  bank.  It  was 
midday  and  hot  and  dusty.  I  walked  over  the 
barge  we  were  towing  at  the  side,  up  to  the  bank, 
and  then  made  along  the  high  bund,  for  Bagdad, 
its  great  domes  three  miles  upstream.  More  than 
a  place  for  a  base  had  been  conquered.  The  city 
itself  lay  just  around  a  bend  in  the  river.  In  the 
early  morning,  on  the  way  up  the  river,  I  had  seen 
it  in  the  distance,  before  the  palms  along  the 
winding  shore  concealed  it  from  view.  I  won- 
dered what  the  place  would  be  like  at  close  range. 

I  heard  the  distant  whirring  of  an  airplane. 


BAGDAD,  THE  BRITISH  PRIZE      207 

There  were  some  explosions,  but  all  from  the 
direction  of  the  desert — ^no  harm  done.  Then 
quiet.  A  Turkish  machine  was  flying  high  and 
toward  the  north.  A  few  white  patches  of  smoke 
in  the  air  showed  that  Archie,  the  British  anti- 
aircraft gun,  was  faithfully  at  his  work. 

I  was  getting  nearer  the  city  and  could  plainly 
see  the  first  buildings  along  the  river  front,  their 
flat  roofs,  their  courtyards  opening  on  the  rivei? 
wall,  and  the  boats  in  the  river  under  the  windows. 
I  got  to  the  pontoon  bridge.  It  was  not  the 
famous  old  Turkish  bridge  with  all  the  star  and 
crescent  flags  on  it,  but  the  new  British  bridge 
that  curved  across  the  stream  just  below  the  city. 
When  halfway  across  it  I  could  see  the  whole  city. 
What  a  metropolis  it  appeared !  It  was  the  great 
captured  city.  Not  many  days  ago  it  had  been  a 
city  of  the  Turks.  The  motor  trucks  from  Ger- 
many had  come  racing  to  the  city  and  from  there 
to  the  troops  fighting  against  the  Cossacks  in 
Persia  and  to  the  troops,  fighting  against  the 
British  on  the  Tigris.  The  great  caravans  from 
Asia  Minor  and  from  Persia  had  come  rumbling 
through  the  city.     Bagdad  had  distributed  the 


208  TO  BAGDAD  WITH  THE  BRITISH 

wealth  of  the  great  grain  and  wool  regions  lying 
to  the  east  and  to  the  north.  For  the  Turks  Bag- 
dad had  been  the  metrofpolis-  of  Mesopotamia. 
Only  Mosul,  far  to  the  north,  could  hold  a  candle 
to  it.  All  the  towns  on  the  Tigris  and  Euphrates 
were  mere  suburbs  to  the  great  metropolis.  The 
trade  routes  from  Syria  entered  there.  The  trade 
routes  from  Kermanshah  entered  there.  Bagdad 
was  indeed  the  key  to  the  East.  I  felt  as  though 
I  were  coming  from  a  country  home  in  America 
back  to  the  city.  There  is  always  a  shock  about 
that.  But  what  a  shock  when  the  city  was  Bag- 
dad !  The  great  Caliphate !  Bagdad !  Surely  no 
other  city  in  the  world  has  had  such  a  place  in 
story.    It  was  a  place  of  genii. 

At  the  center  of  the  water  front  of  the  city 
were  some  large  buildings,  evidently  the  places  of 
state.  In  the  river,  lying  against  the  wall  of  one 
of  these,  were  two  British  monitors,  sentinels  at 
the  gate  of  British  Bagdad.  Over  the  tops  of  the 
buildings  I  could  see  the  minarets  of  the  Moslem 
mosques,  and  here  and  there  along  the  river  some 
British  flags.    The  Arabs  now  might  come  to  their 


BAGDAD,  THE  BRITISH  PRIZE      209 

own  under  British  protection.    The  Turks  were 
gone. 

As  I  walked  up  the  bank  on  the  city  side  of 
the  river  my  opinion  of  the  Arabs  began  to  rise. 
There  were  Arabs  there  who  seemed  to  have  an 
idea  of  progress.  There  was  hope.  Instead  of 
dropping  the  water  for  their  canals  over  the 
bank  by  swinging  a  little  basket  back  and  forth 
over  the  water  they  were  really  doing  something. 
One  lively  Arab  had  erected  a  chain  of  pails  to 
hang  over  the  river  wall  and  had  a  cog-wheel 
arranged  so  that  a  horse  could  walk  round  and 
round  and  turn  it  to  haul  up  water  for  the  crops. 
Another  had  piloted  an  oil  engine  as  far  away 
from  the  mechanical  part  of  the  world  as  Bag- 
dad and  was  running  a  little  mill  on  the  river 
bank,  with  oil  brought  to  Bagdad  by  the  British 
army.  There  were  good  crops  in  the  fields  and 
the  farmers  seemed  to  be  real  men,  not  just 
**  plundering  Arabs.  ^*  Arab  boys  in  rowboats  on 
the  river  asked  to  take  me  to  Bagdad,  calling  out 
*' Backsheesh!  Backsheesh!'*  Their  boats  were 
not  the  old,  stone-age  ballams  of  the  southern 
country,  but  modem  round-bottomed  rowboats. 


210   TO  BAGDAD  WITH  THE  BRITISH 

These  were  signs  of  progress.  I  thought  of  the 
progress  possible  now  under  British  rule  instead 
of  Turkish.  I  thought  of  what  England  had  done 
for  India  and  Egypt.  I  thought — but  my  reveries 
were  stopped  by  a  most  unexpected  sight.  I  had 
seen  flags  flying  over  the  city  as  I  came  up.  Now 
I  saw  one  close  at  hand.  It  was  not  the  Union 
Jack  but  the  Stars  and  Stripes.  I  thought  I  must 
be  dreaming,  that  the  sudden  change  of  the  city 
of  the  ** Arabian  Nights''  from  Turkish  rule  to 
British  protection  had  been  too  much,  that  the 
contrasts  had  set  my  mind  to  visions  of  still  an- 
other country.  But  no — there  it  was,  flying  in  the 
breeze  over  one  of  the  largest  of  the  buildings. 
I  hastened  my  step  considerably.  I  had  not  seen 
an  American  flag  flying  since  I  became  part  of 
the  British  Expeditionary  Force  in  Mesopotamia. 
What  a  jumble  of  thoughts  now!  Ali  Baba,  flags, 
golden  mosques,  unspeakable  Turks,  war,  Amer- 
ica, England,  chaos,  order — I  was  making  at  top 
speed  for  the  building  with  the  flag  when  I  was 
abruptly  stopped  by  a  sentry  standing  in  the 
gateway  that  led  into  the  main  road  of  the  city. 
*^Got  a  pass?"  he  said.    **No  one  allowed  in  the 


BAGDAD,  THE  BEITISH  PRIZE      211 

city  unarmed."  I  came  to  earth  with  a  thud. 
There  were  no  more  visions  and  thoughts.  Here 
was  a  fact.  The  British  were  masters  of  Bagdad. 
It  would  do  me  no  good  to  be  first  cousin  to  Sind- 
had  the  Sailor  or  head  of  the  Steel  Trust  in 
America.  Here  was  a  British  soldier  with  the 
muzzle  of  his  rifle  not  far  away.  I  stopped  short. 
I  had  neither  pass  nor  gun.  Luckily  one  of  the 
sentries  had  at  one  time  been  wounded  and  in 
hospital  where  I  had  done  something  for  him,  and 
he  knew  me.  After  a  few  words  of  advice  to  me 
about  getting  a  pass,  the  sentry  raised  his  gun. 
Evidently  the  British  meant  to  show  the  native 
population  that  there  would  be  no  trouble  in  the 
city  while  they  were  running  it.  Every  man  on 
the  street  had  his  rifle  and  bayonet. 

I  started  up  the  street  that  ran  along  parallel 
to  the  river,  a  hundred  yards  or  so  from  it.  On 
the  side  toward  the  river  stood  the  building  with 
the  flag.  I  ran  up  the  brick  steps.  Over  the  big 
door  was  a  seal  with  a  spread  eagle,  some  stripes, 
and  the  word  * '  Consulate. ' '  Just  inside  the  door 
were  sitting  several  fat,  dark-skinned  persons 
with     big,     important-looking     mustaches,     all 


212   TO  BAGDAD  WITH  THE  BRITISH 

dressed  up  in  uniforms  with  frills,  but  they 
couldn't  speak  English.  They  all  saluted  most  re- 
spectfully but  seemed  a  little  hesitant.  I  imagine 
that  they  had  not  become  so  accustomed  to  their 
new  protectors  in  British  khaki  as  to  know 
whether  I  was  a  cook  or  a  general.  I  wrote  my 
name  and  why  I  was  there  on  a  piece  of  paper  and 
one  of  the  fat  persons  in  uniform  disappeared 
with  it  behind  a  heavy  curtain.  In  another  mo- 
ment he  was  back  again,  all  smiles  and  bows, 
and  saying  all  sorts  of  things  in  Turkish.  I  took 
them  to  be  polite.  It  was  easy  to  see  he  meant 
me  to  go  to  the  second  floor,  however,  so  I  obeyed 
and  found  myself  on  a  balcony  running  all  the  way 
around  a  square,  roofless  court.  All  around  the 
balcony  were  the  doors  and  windows  of  the  second- 
story  rooms.  The  uniformed  servant,  ^^Cavas''  as 
I  learned  he  was  called,  bowed  in  the  direction 
of  one  of  the  rooms,  and  I  entered  to  find  the  con- 
sul standing  with  a  smiling  face  and  a  warm  hand- 
shake waiting  for  me,  ready  to  reciprocate  my 
happiness  at  seeing  a  fellow  American  in  the  far- 
off  city  of  Bagdad  and  to  answer  my  string  of 
questions. 


BAGDAD,  THE  BRITISH  PRIZE      213 

No,  he  had  not  been  in  Bagdad  a  long  while, 
only  a  few  months.  Only  since  the  previous 
consul  died  there  of  cholera.  Yes,  he  had  seen  all 
the  last  excitement  of  the  Turkish  losses  and  had 
heard  the  guns  approach.  He  had  a  rather  ner- 
vous night  while  the  Kurds  were  looting  the  city. 
Everyone  was  glad  that  the  British  had  come. 
It  would  make  a  tremendous  difference.  No,  he 
did  not  know  anything  definite  about  America's 
relations  with  Germany.  There  had  been  a  report 
about  unofficial  war.  He  expected  that  it  would 
be  official  before  very  long.  There  had  been  more 
sinking  of  ships.  A  fine  building,  one  of  the  big- 
gest in  Bagdad,  had  been  requisitioned  for  the 
Y.  M.  C.  A.  and  my  new  home  and  new  work  would 
be  very  large. 

Mr.  Heyser,  for  that  was  the  American  Con- 
sul's name,  was  most  kind,  hoped  he  could  see 
me  often,  and  sent  his  head  Cavas  with  me  to  show 
me  my  new  quarters.  There  was  a  good  deal  of 
state  authority  in  the  person  of  the  Cavas.  He 
wore  on  his  hat  a  very  handsome  shield  of  stars 
and  stripes,  had  fancy  epaulets  on  his  shoulders, 
and  carried  a  sword.    The  Tommies  stared  at  us 


214   TO  BAGDAD  WITH  THE  BRITISH 

as  we  passed.  Never  had  there  been  anything 
like  the  Cavas  anywhere  else  in  the  country. 
They  thought  Bagdad  must  be  a  remarkable  place, 
with  all  sorts  of  surprises.  They  were  right,  as 
we  shaU  see. 

We  passed  many  fruit  groves  and  many  build- 
ings on  the  way  up  the  wide  dusty  street.  One 
of  the  buildings  was  the  one  I  had  seen  with  the 
gunboats  against  it.  It  was  evidently  the  Head- 
quarters of  the  General  Staff,  the  G.  H.  Q.  There 
were  residences  also,  with  no  windows  on  the  first 
floor,  and  on  the  second  floor  window-seats  that 
projected  over  the  road.  Some  of  these  window- 
seats  were  very  wide  and  gave  enough  shade  for 
the  passer-by  to  walk  in.  Other  buildings  were 
shops;  some  with  oranges  for  sale,  some  with 
souvenirs.  The  Arabs  were  already  at  work 
passing  off  old  Turkish  trinkets  that  they  did  not 
want  to  Britishers  who  would  pay  large  prices  for 
things  that  had  been  Turkish.  They  had  Turkish 
watches  galore,  and  Turkish  spoons,  and  Turk- 
ish belt  buckles,  and  Turkish  coffee  pots,  and 
Turkish  harem  vanity  cases,  and  Turkish  fezzes 


BAGDAD,  THE  BRITISH  PRIZE      215 

and  every  conceivable  thing  that  any  Turk  would 
ever  have. 

There  were  some  girls  in  the  street,  all  with 
veils  so  that  their  eyes  could  not  be  seen.  They 
did  not  cover  their  mouths  like  the  Mohammedans, 
so  they  must  have  been  Jewesses  or  Christians. 
Instead  they  wore  veils  just  over  their  eyes  or  a 
stiff  sort  of  board  like  a  blinder  which  allowed 
them  to  see  the  ground  but  did  not  allow  their 
eyes  to  meet  those  of  a  passer-by.  It  was  good  to 
see  a  few  white  people  of  the  country.  Their  long 
silk  robes  or  '^ahbas/'  as  the  Cavas  called  them, 
were  very  beautiful,  most  of  them  a  delicate  pink 
or  light  blue.  They  had  most  artistic  bracelets 
on  their  arms  also.  They  seemed  timid  in  the 
presence  of  the  British  soldiers  with  their  guns. 
I  imagine  the  thoughts  of  their  awful  treatment 
by  the  Turks  were  still  so  fresh  they  could  not 
bear  to  see  even  British  soldiers. 

Most  of  the  men  in  the  street  had  on  European 
clothes  and  red  f  ezzes.  The  Cavas  said  most  were 
Jews,  some  Armenians,  a  few  of  other  sects.  The 
Arabs,  Mohammedans,  in  the  streets  all  had  on 
their  long  robes   and  their  curious   headdress. 


216   TO  BAGDAD  WITH  THE  BRITISH 

There  seemed  to  be  no  way  of  separating  the 
people  but  by  their  religions,  there  were  so  many 
different  kinds.  Races  did  not  seem  to  count  for 
very  much. 

We  finally  arrived  at  the  building.  It  was  in- 
deed a  big  affair.  It  was  at  least  a  hundred  feet 
long  along  the  street,  and  when  I  got  inside  I 
found  that  the  two  big  courts  reached  right  out 
to  the  river  front.  In  the  second  court  were  sev- 
eral blossoming  trees  and  some  gardens.  To  the 
right  of  the  court  was  a  big  dining-room,  for  the 
building  had  been  a  fine  hotel  under  the  Turks. 

In  the  dining-room  and  in  the  court  near  the 
river  were  sitting  Tommies,  talking  and  looking 
out  of  the  windows  and  over  the  railing  into  the 
river  and  across  it  to  the  buildings  on  the  other 
bank.  On  the  river,  boats  of  all  sorts  were  ply- 
ing hither  and  thither,  from  the  Arab  rowboats 
to  the  fast  motorboats  of  the  Army  Headquarters 
and  Flying  Corps.  The  sun  was  bright  and  every- 
thing glistened  and  sparkled.  Even  the  muddy 
river  looked  blue.  It  seemed  like  Venice  now, 
with  the  white  buildings  along  the  river  banks 
and  the  boats  paddling  on  the  blue  water. 


BAGDAD,  THE  BEITISH  PEIZE      217 

Across  the  river,  almost  opposite,  were  things 
that  looked  like  smashed  machinery.  An  errand 
to  that  part  of  the  town  soon  gave  me  a  chance  to 
see  what  it  was.  Smashed  machinery  it  was  in- 
deed, the  smashed  machinery  of  the  Kaiser. 
There  lay  in  ruins  the  Bagdad  part  of  the  Bag- 
dad Eailway  scheme.  In  the  excitement  of  enter- 
ing the  illustrions  city  that  had  just  ohanged 
hands  I  had  forgotten  there  was  something  about 
Bagdad  bigger  than  its  position  as  the  Turkish 
metropolis,  bigger  than  the  pipe-dreams  of  the 
tellers  of  tales  which  have  come  to  us  as  the 
** Arabian  Nights.^'  Bagdad  was  the  central  fig- 
ure in  the  great  plan  of  German  conquest  of  the 
East.  The  road  from  Berlin  to  Bagdad  was  to 
be  the  great  white  road  of  trade  that  was  to 
accomplish  for  Germany  her  dream  of  expansion 
eastward.  The  road  was  certainly  being  built. 
There  were  plenty  of  remains  right  in  front  of  me. 
Why  did  the  Kaiser  kill  the  goose  that  was  to  lay 
the  golden  eggi  Why  bring  war  when  he  might 
have  sent  his  trade  over  the  Bagdad  Eailway  to 
draw  all  the  East  to  him?  Now  the  Bagdad  end 
was  gone. 


218  TO  BAGDAD  WITH  THE  BRITISH 

The  Germans  had  done  a  lot  of  hard  work  on 
the  road.  There  stood  the  great  stone  and  cement 
buildings,  offices  of  the  German  Railway  Com- 
pany, the  railroad  station  and  the  immense  wire- 
less plant.  For  these  the  Germans  had  brought 
all  the  stone  for  miles  and  miles  from  the  hills  of 
Asia  Minor  or  of  Persia,  for  there  is  not  so  much 
as  a  pebble  in  Mesopotamia.  There  stood  near 
the  river  the  stone-crusher  that  had  crushed  the 
stone  that  made  the  roadbeds.  In  the  ruins  of 
machinery  that  lay  all  around  on  the  ground  the 
stone-crusher  stood  unharmed.  The  Germans  had 
realized  that  the  British  could  get  no  stone  for  it, 
so  it  would  be  only  an  aggravation.  On  the 
ground  lay  the  crumpled-up  standard  of  a  great 
reservoir,  with  the  big  tank,  all  bent,  lying  near. 
There  were  boilers  and  countless  parts  of  machin- 
ery lying  everywhere,  all  smashed  or  bent  by 
explosives.  A  little  farther  from  the  river  lay 
several  locomotives,  but  all  of  them  useless  with 
parts  destroyed.  Some  of  the  trucks  were  there 
also,  in  the  same  useless  condition.  I  noticed  that 
each  of  them  had  on  it  the  stamp  of  a  star  and 
crescent  and  the  word  *^ Bagdad.''     The  Sultan 


BAGDAD,  THE  BRITISH  PRIZE      219 

was  to  believe  that  the  road  was  his,  or  perhaps 
would  be  his  some  day  if  he  could  ever  pay  his 
debts  to  Germany.  The  railway  station  also  had 
on  it  in  big  letters  the  word  ** Bagdad,''  in  Eng- 
lish and  in  Turkish,  tactfully  not  in  German. 
Lastly  there  was  the  great  German  wireless  sta- 
tion, a  tremendous  stone  structure  with  part  of 
the  stone  base  of  the  wireless  tower  still  standing. 
The  iron  part  lay  bent  to  pieces,  fallen  through 
the  roof  of  the  building.  The  great  tower  had 
stood  just  long  enough  to  send  to  Germany  the 
news  that  Bagdad  must  fall  and  then  crashed 
through  the  roof,  dynamited  by  German  en- 
gineers. That  was  the  end  of  the  Bagdad  part  of 
the  great  German  scheme 

The  tremendous  amount  of  destruction  done  by 
the  Germans  on  their  own  property,  the  fearful 
loss  of  good  materials  that  might  have  been  used 
for  peaceful  enterprise,  was  appalling.  All  Asia, 
all  the  world  would  have  profited  by  a  railway 
through  Mesopotamia,  a  quick  route  to  the  east, 
London  to  Karachi,  or  Hamburg  to  the  Persian 
Gulf  in  a  week.  Would  that  the  railway  of  the 
Germans  had  been  planned  to  help  the  world,  in- 


220   TO  BAGDAD  WITH  THE  BRITISH 

stead  of  to  destroy!  As  it  was,  it  deserved  the 
fate  imposed  upon  it  by  its  own  engineers. 

Before  the  war  there  was  little  talk  by  Germany 
about  the  military  value  of  her  railway.  She 
thought  she  could  camouflage  that  by  always  talk- 
ing of  trade,  trade,  trade.  But  when  her  armies 
swept  over  Roumania,  and  the  route  from  Berlin 
to  Asia  Minor  was  safe  to  Germany,  the  spokes- 
man of  the  Kaiser,  Dr.  Rohrbach,  said;  *'The 
Bagdad  Railway  would  supplement  the  Syrian 
and  Arabian  railways  in  throwing  troops  in  the 
direction  of  Egypt.  The  Bagdad  Railway  is  thus 
in  the  nature  of  a  political  life  insurance  policy 
for  Germany. '^  He  might  have  added  India  to 
Egypt  and  got  nearer  to  the  whole  truth  that  lay 
behind  the  railway  project.  Think  of  the  audac- 
ity! Proclaiming  the  road  to  be  a  life  insurance 
policy  for  Germany,  an  insurance  that  Germany 
should  gain  life  by  spreading  out  to  take  all  the 
world  in  her  greedy  paws  and  devour  it ! 

At  the  present  writing,  we  are  glad  because  of 
the  fall  of  Jerusalem  to  an  army  similar  to  that 
in  Bagdad,  not  only  from  the  religious  point  of 
view  but  from  the  standpoint  of  the  loss  to  Ger- 


BAGDAD,  THE  BRITISH  PRIZE      221 

many.  It  is  a  time  for  great  rejoicing,  for  tlie 
British  push  through  Palestine  has  not  only 
ruined  the  plans  of  Germany  for  getting  into 
Egypt  on  rails,  but  has  brought  greater  security 
to  the  splendid  results  in  Bagdad.  With  a  big 
British  force  in  Palestine  there  will  be  no  advance 
from  Aleppo  on  Bagdad,  to  try  to  get  back  that 
important  place.  From  my  experience  with  the 
British  army  I  am  quite  convinced  that  the  Ger- 
mans could  never  defeat  the  British  in  Meso- 
potamia anyway,  but  there  would  be  a  great 
tussle,  and  the  army  in  Jerusalem  has  prevented 
that.  At  the  same  time  it  must  be  remembered 
that  the  advance  of  the  British  in  Mesopotamia 
to  Bagdad  did  the  great  service  of  relieving  the 
pressure  of  the  Turks  against  the  British  in 
Palestine,  that  great  victories  might  be  won  there. 
The  two  campaigns  have  always  gone  hand  in 
hand.  One  common  result  now  they  have  accom- 
plished, the  destruction  of  the  power  of  Prussian- 
ism  on  rails  to  the  east. 

To  the  Tommies  in  Bagdad  the  expulsion  of  the 
Germans  was  a  great  event,  though  they  may  not 
have  realized  its  full  significance.     What  inter- 


222  TO  BAGDAD  WITH  THE  BRITISH 

ested  them  was  to  be  able  to  write  tbeir  names  in 
a  German  building.  The  troops  in  France  could 
not  do  that.  They  never  got  on  soil  that  had  been 
German  before  the  war.  Here  the  Tommies  felt 
superior  to  their  brothers  on  the  western  front. 
They  were  in  German  territory,  for  all  the  terri- 
tory of  the  railway  was  German.  On  the  walls  of 
the  wireless  station  were  the  penciled  names  of 
thousands  of  Tommies  who  could  say  some  day, 
*  *  We  were  in  Germany  right  enough. ' '  One  bright 
Tommy  wrote  on  the  wall,  ** Berlin  next.'' 

But  there  were  messages  from  Germans  as  well. 
Painted  in  huge  red  letters  on  the  walls  of  the  big 
central  room  were  the  messages  *^Gott  strafe 
England,"  and  **Six  Tommies  equal  one  Ger- 
man,'' and  ** England  shall  die."  In  the  very 
color  of  the  paint  there  was  hatred.  There  were 
pictures  too.  One  represented  London,  with  its 
tall  buildings  close  together  and  an  immense  Zep- 
pelin over  it,  dropping  bombs.  Another  repre- 
sented a  big  English  boat  on  the  sea  and  a  sub- 
marine blowing  it  up.  The  painting  was  well 
done.  Some  German  had  evidently  taken  a  lot 
of  trouble  to  tell  the  British  what  he  hoped. 


BAGDAD,  THE  BEITISH  PEIZE      223 

Just  beside  the  building  stood  a  British  anti- 
aircraft gun,  an  assurance  that  what  he  hoped 
would  never  be.  A  large  camp  of  infantry  was 
in  the  palms  not  far  away.  Several  companies 
were  drilling. 


CHAPTER  XII 

TOMMY  IN  BAGDAD 

Tommy  in  Bagdad!  Camel  Caravans  in  New 
York !  Bagdad  Railway !  Bagdad  War !  Bagdad 
Tommy!  It  had  to  come.  But  imagine  Tommy 
Atkins  mixing  among  the  Eastern  multitudes 
thronging  the  streets  of  Bagdad,  taking  the  place 
of  the  bodyguard  of  Haroun-al-RaschidI  Tommy 
in  a  French  town  is  conceivable.  There,  he  soon 
becomes  accustomed  to  things.  But  East  is  East 
and  West  is  West  and  this  was  never  more  true 
than  in  the  old  city  of  Bagdad. 

Why,  you  say,  is  Bagdad  any  different  from 
any  other  Eastern  city?  Tommy  got  along  all 
right  in  Cairo  or  Bombay.  But  Bagdad  is  the 
city  of  the  Bagdaddies.  The  Tommies  were  in 
Bagdad — ^but  not  of  it.  Never  did  any  of  us 
feel  that  we  belonged  there,  nor  did  we  have  any 
idea  that  the  Bagdaddies  thought  we  belonged 
there.    We  were  all  misfits.    We  thought  at  the 

224 


TOMMY  IN  BAGDAD  225 

very  first  that  Bagdad  would  follow  along  the  way 
of  Bombay  and  Cairo  and  also  become  somewhat 
Anglicized.  But  we  were  mistaken.  Bagdad 
stayed  Bagdaddie. 

It  is  not  so  easy  to  explain  what  I  mean  by  that, 
though  it  sticks  out  all  over  the  place.  I  have 
already  called  Bagdad  a  metropolis.  It  is  to 
Mesopotamia  and  a  good  part  of  Persia  what  New 
York  is  to  the  Eastern  States.  One  always  knows 
a  New  Yorker.  After  a  man  has  lived  in  the  great 
metropolis  for  a  while  he  becomes  welded  into  the 
type.  A  New  Yorker  may  be  an  Upstater,  or  a 
Westerner,  or  a  Southerner,  or  just  a  New  Yorker 
since  the  days  of  Peter  Stuyvesant.  A  Bagdaddie 
is  an  Arab  Mohammedan,  or  a  Kurd  Mohamme- 
dan, or  a  neo-Turk  Mohammedan,  or  a  Persian 
Mohammedan,  or  a  Jew,  or  a  Christian,  either 
Nestorian,  Syrian,  Sabean  or  Armenian.  It  is  al- 
ways religion,  religion,  religion.  You  never  get 
away  from  it.  It  is  all  that  makes  any  difference, 
all  that  separates  the  people.  But  there  is  an  air 
about  the  man  of  a  metropolis  that  is  unmistak- 
able.   He  is  of  The  City.    All  good  things  come 


226  TO  BAGDAD  WITH  THE  BRITISH 

to  The  City.    You  must  pay  for  the  privilege  of 
belonging  to  The  City.    But  it  is  worth  it. 

Some  up-and-doing  people  have  such  modern 
improvements  as  sewing-machines,  ice-boxes, 
small  oil  engines  and  the  like.  Eunning  from  Bag- 
dad to  the  great  Shiah  shrine  at  Kazimain  is  a 
horse  car,  with  seats  on  the  roof  as  well  as  in- 
side. These  are  signs  of  life,  and  it  would  seem 
as  though  East  and  West  were  meeting.  But  not 
so.  The  East  has  taken  a  few  things  from  the 
West,  that  is  all.    In  Bagdad  East  is  East. 

The  Bagdaddies  surely  realized  we  were  mis- 
fits. One  thing  they  very  soon  found  out.  That 
was  that  Tommy  and  his  money  are  soon  parted. 
Active  service  always  tends  to  decrease  one's  es- 
teem of  money.  Life  itself  is  at  stake  and  the  new 
scale  of  values  that  grows  up  with  that  as  a  pre- 
mise places  money  far  down  the  list.  Besides,  on 
active  service  there  is  usually  nothing  to  buy.  We 
all  felt  like  blowing  in  a  tremendous  amount  of 
money  in  Bagdad,  just  because  we  could.  As 
easily  as  our  money  went  out  prices  went  up. 
One  morning  I  passed  a  shop  where  some  Tom- 
mies were  arguing  with  a  vender  for  a  brass 


TOMMY  IN  BAGDAD  227 

Turkish  buckle,  in  the  design  of  a  star  and  cres- 
cent. The  Arab ' ' bazaar-walla''  wanted  about  ten 
times  too  much.  The  men  crowded  around  the 
box-shaped  shop  and  clamored  for  different 
prices.  The  old  Arab's  face  was  impassive.  His 
keen  eyes  and  the  roll  of  wool  wound  like  a  ser- 
pent around  his  head,  as  though  it  were  in  keep- 
ing with  his  thoughts,  looked  devilish.  He  let 
them  argue.  Then  he  put  the  buckle  in  a  box  and 
turned  to  something  else,  mumbling  in  Arabic. 
The  men  moved  away,  mumbling  in  a  sort  of  Eng- 
lish, probably  no  more  profane  than  the  Arabic. 
A  few  minutes  later  I  passed  the  place  again. 
The  Tommies  were  back  and  had  bought  the 
buckle.  Their  mumbling  had  grown  to  open 
charges  of  ^^  highway  robbery. '*  The  Arab  still 
mumbled,  but  his  face  did  not  change.  He  was 
looking  far  away,  lifting  to  his  lips  the  end  of 
the  hose  of  his  hubble-bubble  pipe.  I  looked  at 
the  man  as  I  walked  past  the  shop.  When  I  came 
to  a  bend  in  the  road  I  turned  to  look  again.  He 
still  had  not  moved  and  was  still  lazily  puffing  at 
his  pipe,  and  looking  far  away.  '*East  is  East,'* 
I  thought  as  I  went  my  way. 


228  TO  BAGDAD  WITH  THE  BRITISH 

A  little  way  down  the  road  was  tlie  office  of  the 
Field  Treasurer.  For  a  hundred  yards  along  the 
lane  stretched  a  line  of  Arab  women  in  their  black 
gowns,  holding  English  paper  money  in  their 
hands,  waiting  their  turn  to  exchange  it  for  sil- 
ver. While  the  Arabs  in  the  bazaars  were  tak- 
ing the  new  kind  of  money  from  the  spendthrift 
Tommies  they  were  sending  their  women  to  make 
sure  that  they  could  hear  their  money  clink  in- 
stead of  rustle. 

Throughout  Bagdad  the  Englishman  sets  him- 
self up  in  broad  contrast  to  the  Oriental.  So  dif- 
ferent are  the  oriental  and  occidental  points  of 
view  that  it  was  a  case  of  Tommy  against  Bag- 
daddie  everywhere.  It  was  the  dull  khaki  against 
the  lurid  color  and  noise  of  the  Orient.  It  was 
the  plain  uniforms  against  the  flowing  robes  of 
the  Bagdaddie  men,  and  the  beautiful  ^'ahbas" 
of  the  Christian  and  Jewish  girls.  There  were, 
in  Bagdad,  a  few  women  who  wore  European 
dress.  They  were  as  out  of  place  with  European 
dress  in  Bagdad  as  women  with  bare  feet  and 
scarfs  wound  around  their  bodies  would  be  in 


TOMMY  IN  BAGDAD  229 

American  streets.  The  rich-colored  gowns  of  the 
native  girls  were  beautiful. 

One  of  the  British  divisions  which  marched  to 
Bagdad  was  given  as  part  of  its  property  a  com- 
pound containing  a  huge  grove  of  pomegranate 
and  orange  trees.  It  was  indeed  singular  to  see 
Tommies  in  their  khaki  strolling  around  among 
the  blossoms  and  the  first  fruits  of  these  beauti- 
ful trees,  sipping  tea  in  the  shade  of  trees  whose 
names  savor  of  fairyland. 

Some  of  the  alert  Bagdaddies  started  little  eat- 
ing shops  for  the  British  soldiers,  where  they 
might  get  soda  water,  oranges  and  cakes,  at  ex- 
orbitant prices.  Sitting  in  one  of  these  one  day 
with  some  friends,  I  noticed  that  just  across  the 
street  was  an  Arab  coffee  shop.  While  we  sat  on 
chairs,  and  at  tables,  hundreds  of  Bagdaddie  men 
were  reclining  on  their  wide  wooden  benches,  like 
the  old  benches  from  which  people  used  to  eat 
thousands  of  years  ago.  Each  man  had  his  hub- 
ble-bubble pipe  and  was  intermittently  taking 
long  puffs  of  the  wretched  tobacco  that  they  smoke 
in  those  pipes.  In  our  shop  we  were  smoking 
English-made  cigarettes.     Across  the  street  an 


230  TO  BAGDAD  WITH  THE  BRITISH 

Arab  walked  along  in  front  of  the  benches  that 
lined  the  street,  clinked  some  cups  and  his  copper 
coffee-pot,  and  poured  out  for  each  man  a  very 
small  amount  of  the  rich,  syrupy  coffee.  Those 
of  the  Bagdaddies  who  were  not  drinking  coffee 
were  drinking  lebhen,  Lehhen  is  curdled  camel's 
milk,  and  makes  a  most  delightful  drink  for  hot 
weather — ^not  cold  but  refreshing.  In  our  shop 
we  were  noiselessly  pouring  out  bad-tasting  soda, 
made  without  all  the  proper  ingredients.  Across 
the  street  they  were  eating  manna,  ** angel  food.'' 
The  Bagdaddies  say  it  is  what  the  Israelites  ate 
in  the  wilderness  on  the  journey  from  Egypt  to 
Palestine.  It  may  be  so,  for  the  manna  of  Bag- 
dad is  picked  up  off  the  ground  or  off  the  leaves 
of  trees.  It  comes  from  the  bark  of  certain  hill 
trees  and  the  Arab  women  go  out  and  scrape  it  off 
the  leaves  or  off  the  stones  and  send  it  down  to 
Bagdad,  where  it  is  prepared  with  nuts  and  made 
into  a  kind  of  nut  taffy.  It  is  very  good,  too.  But 
we  were  eating  hard,  underbaked  cakes,  or  at- 
tempts at  cakes.  I  think  we  would  have  fared 
better  in  the  Arab  coffee  house,  on  the  whole. 
We  fared  better  where  we  were  in  the  matter 


TOMMY  IN  BAGDAD  231 

of  smokes,  however.  Never  did  I  see  such  ciga- 
rettes as  the  Arabs  make.  They  put  the  tobacco 
into  a  big  bowl,  chop  it  with  knives  and  moisten  it 
with  their  tongues  till  they  have  a  mass  of  finely 
cut,  wet  tobacco.  Then  they  take  coarse  paper 
and  roll  the  tobacco  into  cigarettes  about  four 
inches  long.  The  cigarettes  do  not  taste  so  bad, 
but  the  small  bits  of  tobacco  always  fall  out  and 
burn  your  clothes.  One  of  my  friends  opened  up 
one  of  the  cigarettes  and  found  that  the  paper 
was  from  the  cover  of  an  English  magazine.  The 
Arabs  had  been  so  hard  up  for  paper  that  they  had 
made  for  the  first  thing  they  could  find  when  the 
British  entered  Bagdad. 

The  contrast  between  the  surging  crowds  of 
Bagdaddies  and  the  parades  of  British  soldiers 
was  most  marked.  In  the  early  morning  the  great 
crowds  of  Arab  coolies  or  hamals  rushed  through 
the  streets  in  search  of  work.  There  usually  was 
work  because  there  was  a  great  deal  of  unloading 
and  loading  to  do  at  the  boats  of  the  British  as 
they  brought  things  up  to  the  new  British  base. 
The  great  ** multitudes''  actually  poured  through 
the  narrow  alleyways,  under  the  projecting  bal- 


232   TO  BAGDAD  WITH  THE  BRITISH 

conies  of  the  houses  on  each  side  of  the  streets. 
About  half -past  five  every  morning  we  heard  them 
start  on  their  search  for  work.  We  could  hear 
their  voices  in  the  far  distance,  and  at  first 
thought  there  must  be  a  riot  somewhere  in  the 
city.  Then  it  came  nearer  and  it  was  almost 
deafening.  It  was  like  an  alarm  clock  for  every- 
one who  was  trying  to  sleep  anywhere  near  the 
route  of  the  crowds.  Usually  they  ran  and 
shouted ;  sometimes  they  walked  and  sang  a  weird 
sort  of  song,  the  same  monotonous  phrase  over 
and  over,  the  kind  of  song  they  used  when  work- 
ing, making  the  work  rhythmical  and  singing  to 
keep  time. 

It  was  very  convenient  to  have  such  throngs  of 
coolies  in  the  streets,  for  in  the  early  morning  all 
one  need  do  to  get  an  army  of  workers  was  to  call 
out  the  window  ^^Hamal!"  and  they  would  come 
into  the  courtyard  till  there  was  no  more  room. 
It  reminds  one  of  the  genii  of  Aladdin,  who  so 
mysteriously  did  all  his  work.  Only  say  the  magic 
word  ^'Hamal/'  and  the  work  is  done.  When  a 
fatigue  party  went  through  the  streets  or  a  guard 
party  or  a  detachment  of  troops  on  way  to  camp 


TOMMY  IN  BAGDAD  233 

the  ** multitude'*  sank  into  oblivion.  *^"We''  were 
the  caste.  The  ** rabble"  must  stay  in  the  back- 
ground. "When  the  work  required  carriers  the 
Arabs  were  superior,  for  on  their  strong  backs 
they  could  carry  almost  any  burdens.  But  not 
when  artisans  were  needed.  Some  of  the  carpen- 
try work  in  town  was  done  by  Arab  carpenters 
who  used  tools  that  Jonah  might  have  used.  For 
boring,  each  carpenter  had  a  spike  with  a  wooden 
swivel  and  a  string.  Only  by  using  his  toes,  both 
hands,  and  his  chin  could  he  manipulate  the  mar- 
velous implement,  pull  the  string  back  and  forth, 
and  turn  the  spike  so  that  it  would  bore.  It  was 
rather  clever  but  not  very  speedy. 

The  copper  workers  in  the  bazaar  were  also  in- 
teresting. They  hammered  furiously  at  their  work 
all  day  long,  bending  over  it  in  the  subdued  glow 
of  their  forges.  They  were  picturesque  and  their 
vessels  were  well  made.  But  what  a  contrast  to 
the  mechanics  of  the  Inland  Water  Transport 
Workshop,  working  on  engine  parts  and  on  boat 
parts !  Here  was  a  machine  shop  sent  from  Lon- 
don. 

The  cavalry  of  the  British  and  of  the  Arabs 


234   TO  BAGDAD  WITH  THE  BRITISH 

were  also  typical  of  the  difference  between  East 
and  West.  We  think  of  cavalry  with  fine  big 
horses  and  spurs  and  leather  leggings,  and  a  gen- 
eral appearance  of  strength  and  power.  So  it  is 
with  the  British  cavalry.  We  think  of  the  Arab 
horsemen  also  as  big  and  strong  and  on  big  horses. 
As  a  matter  of  fact  the  Arab  horses  are  very 
small,  though  fast,  and  the  Arabs  are  far  from 
wearing  spurs  and  leather  leggings  and  looking 
extremely  powerful.  They  remind  one  of  the 
Arab  of  story.  The  large  men,  with  flowing  robes 
covering  the  backs  of  the  little  ponies,  sit  with 
their  legs  stretched  out  from  the  sides  of  the  ani- 
mals, their  bare  feet  thrust  into  Jbroad  copper  or 
iron  stirrups  wide  and  long  enough  to  give  support 
to  the  whole  flat  of  the  foot.  The  Arab  of  the 
** Arabian  Nights,*'  with  his  great  turban,  his 
twirling  mustache,  his  long  curved  sword  stuck 
through  a  most  wonderfully  colored  sash,  great 
bulging  pantaloons  and  red,  pointed  slippers  with 
toes  sticking  straight  up,  is  found  only  partially 
in  the  Arab  horseman  of  today,  yet  there  is 
enough  still  in  his  picturesque  appearance  to  make 
one  realize  that  Bagdad  is  the  great  city  of  re- 


TOMMY  IN  BAGDAD  235 

nown.  A  fine,  powerful  looking  Arab  in  flowing 
robes  rode  by  me  in  the  bazaar  one  day.  How 
odd !  Yet  be  blended  with  the  background  of  Bag- 
dad; we  did  not. 

Bagdad  had  another  peculiarity — dust  storms. 
During  the  first  days  of  British  occupation  there 
were  terrific  storms.  The  paddle  boats,  as  they 
steamed  up  the  river  bringing  stores,  blew  their 
fog-horns  all  the  while.  The  dust  was  thicker 
than  fog.  It  was  impossible  to  see  more  than  fif- 
teen feet  ahead,  and  terribly  painful  to  keep  the 
eyes  open  at  all.  Ashore  the  only  way  to  walk  was 
to  take  a  quick  look  at  the  path  and  then  close  the 
eyes  and  go  as  far  as  you  dared  in  the  dark.  The 
troops  had  to  march  miles  in  that  sort  of  weather. 
Some  of  the  troops  entered  the  city  in  such  a 
storm.  I  was  working  out  of  doors  in  such 
weather  one  day.  It  was  the  worst  dust  storm 
I  ever  encountered.  Boats  in  the  river  broke 
adrift.  All  those  that  were  trying  to  get  some- 
where had  to  stop  and  tie  up  at  the  bank.  It  got 
so  bad  after  a  while  that  in  order  to  walk  I  had 
to  fairly  throw  myself  against  the  wall  of  thick 
dust,  plunge  through  it  for  a  while,  then  stop  and 


236   TO  BAGDAD  WITH  THE  BRITISH 

repair  casualties  enough  so  I  could  open  my  eyes 
and  get  an  idea  where  I  was  going. 

On  such  a  day  as  that  I  was  talking  to  a  Tommy 
in  the  bazaar  section  of  the  town,  where  every- 
thing was  gloomy-looking  from  the  effects  of  the 
looting  of  the  Kurds:  doors  off  here,  goods  de- 
stroyed there;  everything  looking  forlorn  and 
whatever  there  was  to  be  seen  covered  with  a 
coat  of  dust  an  eighth  of  an  inch  thick.  *^  Strike 
me  pink,''  he  said.  *^We  might  'a'  better  stayed 
'ome  in  London  an'  left  the  dust  to  the  Turks." 
Surely  it  seemed  as  though  he  were  right.  What 
was  there  in  Bagdad  anyway  but  dust  and  filth? 
Surely  somebody  was  mistaken  if  he  thought  that 
was  worth  taking. 

As  I  walked  through  the  residence  part  of  the 
city  I  thought  that  Bagdad's  buildings  were  in 
keeping  with  the  dust  that  flew  around.  It  was 
dust  to  dust  returning.  For  the  Bagdad  houses 
are  all  built  of  mud  baked  into  bricks,  with  just 
enough  wood  to  keep  the  bricks  together — either 
trunks  of  palm  trees  or  beams  of  mulberry.  The 
outside  of  a  Bagdad  building  presents  a  most 
barren  appearance  at  all  times,  but  especially 


TOMMY  IN  BAGDAD  237 

when  the  dust  is  flying  aronnd,  for  there  are  no 
windows  on  the  first  floor  and  the  doors  are  heavy, 
forbidding-looking  black  barriers  with  rusty  cres- 
cent knockers.  The  upper  story  is  a  little  more 
inviting,  for  there  is  always  a  balcony  project- 
ing out  over  the  street.  It  is  impolite  to  look  up 
at  the  windows  of  the  balcony  from  the  street, 
though  they  are  excellent  places  from  which  the 
Bagdaddies  may  see  all  that  goes  on  in  the  streets. 
If  the  house  is  on  the  river  the  balcony  projects 
over  the  water  and  callers  who  come  by  boat  can 
be  seen  long  before  they  get  to  the  river  steps. 
I  entered  the  residence  of  a  wealthy  Armenian 
Bagdaddie  and  breathed  a  sigh  of  relief  as  I 
looked  at  the  courtyard.  It  was  a  new  world.  In- 
stead of  thick  dust  there  were  brilliant  rugs  hang- 
ing from  the  balcony  that  ran  around  the  court. 
There  were  flower  gardens  in  the  floor  of  the 
court  and  beautiful  furniture  on  the  balconies 
and  pictures  on  the  walls.  It  was  Bagdad  at  its 
best. 

So  passed  the  days  that  followed  the  dust  storm. 
In  the  sunlight  the  bazaars  looked  most  elegant, 
the  torn-down  doors  and  closed  shops  were  over- 


238    TO  BAGDAD  WITH  THE  BRITISH 

looked  in  the  brilliancy  of  the  wares  that  the 
venders  had  for  sale  in  the  shops  that  were  open. 
It  was  far  from  homelike.  It  was  truly  oriental 
and  likely  to  remain  so  forever,  with  the  climate 
so  different  from  that  of  the  West  and  with  the 
immense  population  of  140,000  Bagdaddies,  the 
best  that  remain  of  the  great  Eastern  races  who 
are  not  likely  to  become  at  all  occidental  in  their 
ways.  We  were  walking  on  a  stage  in  which  we 
were  misfits.  But  in  the  sunlight  of  the  bright 
clear  days  we  did  not  mind  it.  What  if  East  is 
East  and  West  is  West?  We  were  meeting  there. 
But  were  we  ?  No.  Tommy  and  Bagdaddie  were 
too  different.  Never — ^well,  almost  never — ^the 
twain  ^haR  meet. 


CHAPTER  Xni 

FROM  TURKISH  TO  BRITISH 

British  and  Turks  were  not  the  first  peoples 
to  be  having  a  **show"  in  the  vicinity  of  Bagdad. 
That  country  has  ever  been  a  great  battlefield,  a 
stage  on  which  have  played  the  armies  of  empires. 
A  feeling  of  awe  came  over  me  at  the  thought 
of  living  in  a  land  so  famous  for  the  men  and 
the  armies  that  had  crossed  it,  the  great  bat- 
tles that  had  been  fought  and  the  empires  that  had 
been  established  there. 

The  great  Arch  of  Ctesiphon  which  stood  as  a 
sentinel  before  Townshend's  march  to  Bagdad  is 
all  that  the  Tigris  has  to  show  of  the  glories  of 
that  stage  in  the  past.  But  there  is  more  hidden 
beneath  the  covering  of  the  dust  of  ages,  piled 
up  by  the  desert  winds.  The  land  of  the  two 
rivers  was  glorious  in  days  gone  by.  The  first 
empire  of  all  prospered  there  when  Nimrod  built 
his  great  cities  on  the  Tigris,  north  of  the  present 

239 


240    TO  BAGDAD  WITH  THE  BRITISH 

site  of  Bagdad.  From  the  two  rivers  Abraham 
started  on  his  travels  toward  the  Mediterranean, 
to  settle  in  Palestine.  The  shepherds  of  the  plains 
with  their  flocks  that  I  watched  going  off  over  the 
desert  were  reminders  of  the  adventurer  who 
founded  the  Hebrew  race. 

The  ruins  of  the  palaces  and  temples  of  Nebu- 
chadnezzar were  only  thirty  miles  to  the  west, 
on  the  Euphrates.  Babylon,  once  the  most  famous 
and  most  beautiful  and  most  powerful  city  in  the 
world  lay  there ;  the  city  from  which  men  learned 
to  tell  time,  the  city  whose  influence  spread  to 
all  lands  and  to  all  races.  On  the  stage  with  a 
scene  of  paradise  the  armies  of  Babylon  and  As- 
syria played  the  drama  of  empire  conquest.  The 
great  armies  of  the  Babylonians  conquered  the 
haughty  Assyrians  only  to  fall  in  their  turn  be- 
fore Cyrus,  the  Persian.  The  so-called  *^Tomb 
of  Ezra"  on  the  Tigris  below  Amara  made  fresh 
the  mission  of  the  scribe  from  the  King  of  Persia 
and  the  return  of  the  captive  Jews  to  Jerusalem, 
across  the  Arabian  desert.  While  I  was  in  Bag- 
dad, Jerusalem  was  still  under  Turkish  rule,  but 
we  watched  for  the  British  army  from  Egypt  to 


FEOM  TUEKISH  TO  BEITISH       241 

force  its  way  up  to  it.  Looking  at  them  from  Bag- 
dad, how  near  and  how  real  all  the  places  of  the 
great  past  seemed ! 

"We  were  in  the  realms  we  once  learned  about 
in  Greek  history,  in  the  country  where  the  armies 
of  Alexander  the  Great  fought  against  Persia  for 
the  goal  of  world  conquest.  Only  a  few  miles 
south  of  Bagdad  lay  the  ruins  of  Seleucia^  the 
city  which  was  to  have  been  the  capital  of  Alex- 
ander's Eastern  Kingdom.  The  great  arch  and 
the  buried  ruins  right  across  the  river  from  Se- 
leucia  told  the  story  of  the  Parthians,  the  found- 
ers of  Ctesiphon,  and  the  conquerors  of  the  Ro- 
man forces  under  Mark  Antony.  They  told  of 
the  power  of  the  Persian  monarchs  when  the 
Romans  were  finally  beaten  from  the  land. 

And  then  Bagdad  itself!  What  a  part  on  the 
great  world  stage  that  had  played !  Every  evening 
we  could  see,  either  at  the  bank  of  the  river  or  in 
the  courts  of  the  mosques  of  Bagdad,  Arabs  kneel- 
ing in  prayer  to  Allah  whose  Prophet  was  Mo- 
hammed. The  wonderful  domes  of  mosques,  the 
last  vestige  of  the  magnificence  of  the  best  days 
of  Bagdad,  told  of  the  great  days  of  the  court  of 


242  TO  BAGDAD  WITH  THE  BRITISH 

Earoun-al-Raschid,  the  famous  Caliph  of  the  Mo- 
hammedan world. 

The  Shiah  Mosque  with  its  golden  domes,  in 
Kasimain,  part  of  the  city  of  Bagdad,  held  in  its 
sacred  vaults  the  story  of  bloodshed  and  passion 
which  followed  the  death  of  the  martyr  Ali.  That 
death  was  celebrated  in  Busra  while  the  British 
army  was  getting  ready  to  advance  to  Bagdad. 
At  the  death  of  Ali  and  Husein  the  government 
of  the  Mohammedan  world  went,  under  the  Sunni 
or  Omiad  sect,  to  Palestine,  but  there  it  was  short- 
lived and  returned  to  Mesopotamia.  With  the 
help  of  the  Persians,  who  were  Shiahs,  the  Abbi- 
sid  rule  was  set  up  and  there  grew  up  the  great 
Bagdad  that  every  reader  knows  through  the 
** Arabian  Nights. '*  The  city  was  founded  as  the 
Mohammedan  Caliphate  in  the  year  762.  It  was 
then  across  the  river  from  the  Bagdad  of  to-day. 
Bagdad  in  those  days  was  the  center  of  every- 
thing— of  trade,  of  manufacture,  of  education,  of 
court  influence;  the  place  from  which  went  all 
learning,  all  art,  all  inspiration.  It  was  in  the 
very  center  of  a  wonderfully  fertile  region.  Since 
the  Euphrates  is  twenty-five  feet  higher  than  the 


FEOM  TUEKISH  TO  BRITISH       243 

Tigris  there,  irrigation  courses  flowed  from  one 
to  the  other  through  the  Bagdad  region,  making 
of  it  a  glorious  garden  of  grain  and  fruit.  The 
dty  of  Mansur  was  built  in  a  circle  with  three 
tremendous  walls,  one  around  the  other,  the 
middle  one  ninety  feet  high.  Five  of  the  gates 
which  led  from  one  wall  to  another  were  called 
the  work  of  genii,  built  at  the  command  of  King 
Solomon.  Bagdad  drew  all  the  great  teachers, 
merchants,  princes  and  priests  of  the  world. 
From  its  colleges  went  out  the  teachings  and  lit- 
erary works  that  have  transformed  the  thought 
of  the  whole  world.  The  most  famous  and  the 
most  prosperous  of  cities  it  remained  for  three 
centuries.  Then  with  internal  trouble  it  began  to 
wane. 

Gradually  the  decline  of  the  great  East  began. 
Then  came  the  Mongols,  overrunning  all  the  coun- 
tries of  the  East,  who  finished  it.  The  Turks 
followed  them  and  sealed  it.  All  the  great  dams 
and  embankments  for  the  rivers  were  swept  away ; 
the  water  spread  over  the  whole  land,  and  all  the 
'*Iand  between  the  rivers,"  the  land  of  gardens 


244  TO  BAGDAD  WITH  THE  BRITISH 

and  of  splendor,  became  a  country  of  swamps  and 
plains  with  two  insignificant  streams. 

But  the  Turks  were  gone.  The  British  had 
come.  There  was  a  new  hope  for  Bagdad.  The 
country  that  had  once  been  more  populous  than 
Belgium  and  was  now  an  arid  waste  might  again 
rise  to  heights  of  prosperity.  Sir  William  Wil- 
cox, the  Englishman  who  has  made  such  extensive 
investigations  in  Mesopotamia  says  that  if  the 
Tigris  and  Euphrates  are  again  taken  under  con- 
trol, the  eight  inches  of  rainfall  utilized  and 
proper  irrigation  afforded,  there  can  be  immense 
crops  of  wheat,  barley  and  beans  in  winter,  and 
cotton,  Indian  com  and  rice  in  summer.  Once 
more  the  land  which  under  the  Turks  was  a  desert 
will  be  a  paradise.  The  wars  of  the  past  from  age 
to  age  brought  Mesopotamia  finally  to  desolation. 
The  war  of  the  present  has  brought  hope  of  re- 
turn to  glory. 

Every  day  brought  assurance  that  the  Turks 
were  gone  for  good.  One  day  a  host  of  Turkish 
prisoners  were  marched  through  the  town  on  their 
way  down  the  river  to  prison  camps.  ^  They  were 
marched  through  the  streets  for  exercise  and  for 


FROM  TURKISH  TO  BRITISH        245 

the  effect  upon  the  townspeople.  The  Bagdaddies 
were  to  realize  what  the  British  had  really  done. 
In  the  artillery  barracks  there  were  British  and 
Indian  troops  drilling  in  place  of  Turkish  troops. 
Beside  the  old  Persian  gun  in  front  of  the  build- 
ing stood  British  sentries.  Inside  the  building 
was  the  Turkish  small-arm  factory,  repaired  for 
British  use.  In  the  rooms  of  the  Serai,  where  the 
Turkish  commanding  officers  had  had  their  resi- 
dences and  their  offices,  were  the  offices  and  rooms 
of  the  British  officers. 

I  was  on  my  way  to  the  camp  in  the  palms  north 
of  Bagdad  when  I  wandered  into  a  blind  alley 
and  found  myself  in  a  compound  filled  with  bat- 
tered junk  of  war.  There  were  about  a  hundred 
guns,  all  Turkish,  which  were  destroyed  by  their 
owners  on  the  rout.  They  were  in  all  sorts  of  con- 
ditions, some  with  broken  wheels,  some  with  the 
breech  blocks  removed,  some  with  the  magazine 
smashed.  Next  to  them  lay  a  dozen  mines,  also 
Turkish,  the  ones  that  the  Turks  laid  in  the  river 
to  halt  the  advance  of  the  British  gunboats.  They 
halted  their  advance,  but  only  long  enough  for  the 


246   TO  BAGDAD  WITH  THE  BRITISH 

crews  to  haul  the  mines  on  the  decks  of  the  Brit- 
ish boats. 

The  Turks  were  forever  gone.  Nothing  re- 
mained in  Bagdad  but  captured  Turkish  soldiers 
^nd  captured  Turkish  implements  of  war. 

The  tact  of  the  hotelkeepers,  who  were  now 
taking  care  of  British  patrons  instead  of  Turk- 
ish, was  impressive.  The  names  of  the  hotels 
changed  remarkably.  The  hotels  with  Turkish 
names  immediately  became  the  English  Hotel  and 
the  Hotel  King  George.  The  big  hotel  on  the 
river,  not  far  from  the  old  British  Residence,  be- 
came the  Hotel  Maude,  in  honor  of  the  captor  of 
Bagdad. 

This  was  good  business,  as  was  mucli  of  the  af- 
fected joy  among  the  natives  of  Bagdad.  But 
there  was  more  in  the  hearts  of  the  people  than 
business.  Even  the  Arabs  were  filled  with  grati- 
tude to  the  new  lords  of  Bagdad  for  freeing  them 
from  the  unspeakable  Turks. 

I  lunched,  one  day,  with  an  Arab  Sheikh,  or 
head  man.  He  was  the  governor  of  a  considerable 
area  north  of  Bagdad,  in  the  fruitful  region.  He 
was  a  man  of  wealth,  of  education,  of  breeding. 


FEOM  TUEKISH  TO  BEITISH       247 

Eichly  dressed  in  silk,  with  perfect  manners  and 
that  graceful  air  possible  only  to  a  polished  East- 
erner, he  carried  himself  with  the  utmost  dignity,, 
yet  seemed  humble  in  his  gratitude.  He  was  in 
a  position  to  appreciate  fully  what  the  British 
coming  meant  to  the  Arabs.  He  had  been  wronged 
steadily  by  the  Turks;  he  had  been  threatened 
when  he  started  to  remonstrate  for  the  wholesale 
brigandage;  he  had  seen  his  friends  tortured  by 
the  Turkish  soldiers  because  they  would  not  give 
enough  for  the  Turkish  army.  In  his  beautiful 
French  he  said,  **In  Bagdad  the  Turks  were  what 
the  Germans  were  in  Belgium.  They  took  every- 
thing and  we  could  do  nothing.  Now  the  British 
have  come.  What  a  difference!  Now  we  are 
happy,  everyone.  England  has  our  city,  but 
takes  us  into  her  confidence.  England  will  help. 
Turkey  never  helped. ' '  I  was  amazed  to  hear  an 
Arab  talk  so.  There  was  hope  in  his  tone.  There 
was  assurance  that  Arabs  have  a  good  class.  I  had 
begun  to  think  so  when  I  first  arrived  in  Bagdad. 
They  seemed  so  different  from  the  cut-throat  type 
of  the  marsh  district  farther  south.  Many  of  us 
had  been  surprised  at  the  proclamation  of  Gen- 


248   TO  BAGDAD  WITH  THE  BRITISH 

era!  Maude  to  the  people  of  Bagdad  in  wMcli  he 
called  them  ** Noble  Arabs,"  and  in  which  he  put 
to  them  the  proposal  that  they  follow  the  lead  of 
the  Arabs  in  western  Arabia,  proclaim  themselves 
independent,  and  ally  themselves  with  the  nations 
at  war  with  Germany.  We  had  all  rather  smiled 
at  the  words  *^  Noble  Arabs, '^  but  we  began  to 
understand. 

If  the  Arabs  were  grateful  and  happy  at  the 
British  capture  of  Bagdad,  other  peoples  were 
more  so.  The  Arabs  were  linked  to  the  Turks  by 
religion.  The  Jews  had  been  much  more  perse- 
cuted. So  had  the  Christians.  The  people  who 
appreciated  the  capture  most  of  all  were  the  Ar- 
menians. There  was  a  girl  in  Bagdad  who  had 
been  passed  down  from  the  north  country  to  the 
American  Consul  for  help.  She  had  fled  from  the 
Turks  in  the  massacres  of  the  Armenians  and 
banded  together  a  group  of  girls  to  fight  the  Turk- 
ish soldiers.  They  had  scraped  together  some 
guns  and  ammunition  and  had  held  a  mountain 
pass  against  a  vastly  superior  number  of  men. 
They  fought  all  day,  but  the  supply  of  ammuni- 
tion gave  out  and  those  that  remained  had  to  flee. 


FEOM  TURKISH  TO  BRITISH       249 

The  girl  arrived,  after  a  long  travel  without  rest, 
at  Aleppo.  There  she  was  taken  in  by  a  Turkish 
ofl&cial  who  had  no  patience  with  the  ways  of  the 
Turkish  soldiers.  He  took  her  in  as  his  daughter 
and  kept  her  till  he  could  send  her  to  a  safer 
place.  Finally  he  sent  her  to  Bagdad.  Never  was 
there  a  happier  girl  in  the  world  than  she,  living 
in  Bagdad  of  the  British. 

I  attended  the  service  in  the  Bagdad  **  Latin 
Church ''  on  Palm  Sunday,  just  three  weeks  after 
the  British  entered  the  city.  The  church  had  been 
used  by  the  Turks  as  a  hospital  during  the  cam- 
paign and  when  they  left  they  attempted  to  de- 
stroy it  by  fire.  The  balcony  was  entirely  burned 
away  and  much  of  the  beautiful  inside  work  was 
ruined.  The  Palm  Sunday  service  was  the  first 
big  service  after  the  British  took  the  city  and 
there  were  a  score  or  so  of  men  in  khaki  in  the 
rear  of  the  church,  which  was  filled  with  multi- 
tudes of  native  worshipers.  The  priest  met  us 
and  nearly  wept  as  he  told  something  of  the  joy 
he  felt  at  the  release  from  the  Turks.  He  had 
lived  through  the  last  days  trying  to  keep  up  his 
school  and  to  keep  his  people  in  good  spirits 


250   TO  BAGDAD  WITH  THE  BRITISH 

against  every  disadvantage  possible.  Now  he  was 
free.  The  great  congregation  was  composed 
largely  of  girls,  in  their  pretty  silk  robes,  or  ah- 
has.  The  men,  many  in  European  clothes,  sat 
apart  from  the  women.  There  were  Sisters  of  a 
French  convent  in  the  church  also.  They  had  been 
teachers  before  the  war.  When  the  war  came, 
their  position  as  enemy  aliens  was  difficult.  They 
were  not  allowed  to  leave  the  city  and  became 
nurses  to  the  Turkish  wounded.  They  did  their 
best  in  the  work  and  at  the  end  their  beautiful 
church  was  set  fire  to.  They  insisted  that  the 
men  in  khaki  go  also  to  the  altar  and  receive  each 
a  pahn  branch,  and  as  we  came  back  through  the 
aisle  there  were  looks  in  the  faces  of  many  that 
bespoke  heartfelt  gratitude. 

During  the  Easter  season  our  thoughts  turned 
as  at  Christmas  to  the  land  of  Palestine  across 
the  Arabian  desert.  There  had  been  rumors  for 
some  time  of  an  advance  of  the  British  up 
through  Palestine.  Now  that  Bagdad  had  fallen 
that  seemed  more  probable  than  ever.  We  hoped 
that  before  long  Jerusalem  would  also  be  a  city 
under  the  British  instead  of  under  the  Turks. 


FEOM  TURKISH  TO  BRITISH       251 

The  world  may  rejoice  that  months  before  the 
next  Easter  after  Bagdad's  fall,  Jerusalem,  the 
** Mecca"  of  Christianity,  the  city  from  which 
we  have  received  all  that  is  best  in  our  lives,  fell 
to  a  Christian  nation.  No  city  is  so  inwrought 
into  the  tradition  and  emotions  of  the  world  as 
Jerusalem.  People  of  all  lands  feel  a  deep  sense 
of  relief  at  the  thought  that  the  Turks  have  been 
driven  out  of  it.  There  were  more  Jews  and  Chris- 
tians in  Bagdad  than  in  Jerusalem,  so  the  capture 
of  the  city  of  the  ** Arabian  Nights''  affected  more 
people  in  matters  of  life  and  death  than  did  that 
of  Jerusalem.  But  to  us  in  the  West  the  capture 
of  Jerusalem  is  much  more  significant.  Bagdad 
is  near  to  our  sense  of  the  dramatic,  to  our  im- 
aginations, but  Jerusalem  is  near  to  our  hearts. 

During  that  Easter  week  in  Bagdad,  we  had 
news  that  America  was  on  the  verge  of  war  with 
Germany.  Every  day  we  looked  for  the  tele- 
graphic report  that  war  had  been  declared.  There 
were  four  Americans  in  Bagdad,  Mr.  Heyser,  the 
American  Consul;  Mr.  Stewart,  Mr.  Payne  and 
myself.  Secretaries  of  the  Y.  M.  C.  A.  One  even- 
ing we  four  were  together  on  the  roof  of  our 


252   TO  BAGDAD  WITH  THE  BRITISH 

building  looking  out  over  the  river  Tigris.  It 
was  a  beautiful  night.  The  bridge  of  boats  on 
the  river  was  just  visible  in  the  pale  moonlight, 
the  palms  on  the  opposite  bank  looked  like  spec- 
ters, and  the  reflection  of  the  lights  from  the 
buildings  across  the  river  made  the  ripples 
sparkle  and  play.  We  sat  silently  looking  out 
over  the  river.  From  an  officers'  mess  not  far 
away  came  strains  of  a  phonograph  playing  a 
lazy  air.  It  seemed  like  a  sort  of  fairyland,  like 
a  place  that  you  might  read  about,  but  to  which 
no  real  person  ever  went.  Our  reveries  were 
broken  now  and  then  by  bits  of  conversation. 
We  wondered  what  America  would  do.  America 
seemed  so  far  away.  We  were  in  oriental  Bag- 
dad. 

But  the  calm  of  fairyland  was  that  which  pre- 
ceded a  storm.  It  soon  came  with  its  thundering 
reaUty.  '* AMERICA  DECLARES  WAR''  rang 
out  the  telegrams.  The  crash  of  the  storm  drove 
out  every  thought  but  that  of  war.  It  was  fact — 
hard  and  cold.  And  it  was  right.  We  had  wished 
it  would  come.  Now  we  must  do  our  part.  The 
news  seemed  to  say,  *  *  Get  into  it.    Get  away  from 


FEOM  TURKISH  TO  BRITISH       253 

fairyland.  Get  into  the  game,  Americans !  You 
have  lives  to  give.  Give  them."  The  call  was 
strong  out  there  in  Bagdad.  We  were  in  the  war 
already.  We  knew  what  it  meant.  We  had  seen 
war  from  the  fighters'  standpoint.  And  we  wanted 
to  get  into  it  for  our  own  land.  To-day  we  are 
all  in  the  Service. 

While  we  waited  for  some  of  our  brothers,  the 
English,  to  get  out  to  Bagdad  to  take  the  places 
of  the  no-longer-neutral  Americans,  spring  was 
changing  into  summer.  Summer  comes  early  in 
Mesopotamia.  One  afternoon  a  man  fell  in  the 
street  near  our  door,  struck  down  with  the  heat. 
We  carried  him  into  the  shade  and  poured  water 
on  him  till  he  came  to.  After  a  good  rest  he  was 
able  to  go  to  camp.  That  was  in  the  middle  of 
the  afternoon.  The  temperature  was  above  a  hun- 
dred. About  twelve  hours  later,  sleeping  on  the 
roof,  I  was  cold  with  two  thick  blankets.  Mesopo- 
tamian  summer  was  no  joke.  One  of  our  number 
went  to  hospital  with  dysentery.  Another  was 
laid  up  with  fever.  There  was  nothing  for  it  but 
to  ** stick  it,"  however.  Everyone  else  was  doing 
it.     **Why  don't  you  go  to   France?"   said   a 


254  TO  BAGDAD  WITH  THE  BRITISH 

Tommy.    ** Bullets  ain't  lialf  so  bad  as  this  blast 
from  bell.'' 

It  was  bard  fighting  now  and  half  the  casual- 
ties were  from  heat.  I  went,  during  this  weather, 
to  the  trenches  about  fifty  miles  north  of  Bagdad. 
Neither  British  nor  Turks  could  do  much  fighting 
during  that  heat,  though  it  was  quite  livable  at 
night.  We  longed  for  the  nights  to  cool  things 
off.  We  were  quite  happy  then.  I  shall  never  for- 
get a  night  that  followed  one  of  the  worst  of  the 
days.  Just  behind  the  trenches  we  held  a  con- 
cert, right  out  on  the  plains.  There  were  plenty 
of  men  who  had  had  experience  in  stage  life  and 
many  volunteered  to  ^*do  a  turn."  Three  thou- 
sand men  turned  out  from  near  and  far  along  the 
line  to  get  the  relief  of  a  light  show  after  the 
deadly  heat  of  the  day.  Some  of  the  men  came 
over  five  miles.  It  was  worth  it.  The  comedians 
that  got  up  on  the  shaky  stage  made  of  boxes 
were  worth  the  price  of  admission  if  it  had  been 
a  ten-mile  walk.  For  scenery  there  was  the  bril- 
liant starry  sky,  for  footlights  a  few  ordinary  lan- 
terns, and  for  a  curtain — ^nothing.  But  the  show 
was  all  the  better  for  that. 


FEOM  TURKISH  TO  BRITISH       255 

The  cleverest  man  in  tlie  show  was  the  sort  that 
you  have  only  to  look  at  to  laugh.  He  had  his 
blouse  turned  inside  out,  had  a  Turkish  fez  stuck 
on  the  side  of  his  head  and  a  skirt  of  red  silk  tied 
around  his  waist.  He  had  found  a  use  at  last  for 
the  keepsakes  that  he  had  had  hidden  in  his  treas- 
ured kit  bag  for  months.  He  was  *  *  Grandmother 
from  up  country  come  to  see  London  Town/'  he 
said.  He  strutted  up  and  down  the  boxes  *  ^  seeing 
London/'  getting  mixed  up  with  busses  and  *^ Bob- 
bies" and  having  something  humorous  to  say 
about  each  and  every  characteristic  of  the  city. 
Remembering  that  we  were  all,  at  the  time,  out 
of  soap,  with  no  prospect  of  getting  any  issued 
to  us  for  months,  he  gave  us  the  droll  little  song 
with  a  moral: 

Soap  and  water. 

Just  a  little  bit  of  soap  and  water 

Any  old  kind  of  weather 

They  both  go  well  together. 

Take  a  tip  from  grandma,  every 

Mother's  son  and  daughter. 

If  you  want  to  get  on  in  London  Town 

Use  soap  (boom!  boom!)  and  water. 

Next  he  did  some  mimicking.    His  best  was  at  the 
expense  of  the  Scotchmen.    He  said  a  Scotchman 


256  TO  BAGDAD  WITH  THE  BRITISH 

came  to  London  and,  in  search  of  work,  became 
part  of  a  little  theatrical  company.  His  part  was 
to  be  the  echo  for  tragic  words  of  the  hero  of  the 
play.  Our  actor  then  became  in  turn  the  hero,  the 
heroine  and  the  echo.  Suddenly  he  jumped  high 
in  the  air,  knocking  one  of  the  boxes  to  pieces  as  he 
landed  on  it.  **  Heroine  runs  away  with  the  vil- 
lain," he  explained.  Next  he  paced  up  and  down 
over  the  boxes,  tearing  his  hair  and  looking  most 
dejected.  **Hero  angry  with  heroine."  He  took 
off  his  fez  and  held  it  in  front  of  his  face.  *  *  Echo 
hiding  behind  the  scenery. ' '  Again  he  became  the 
distracted  hero.  ^ '  Alas,  aJas ! "  He  held  out  his  fez 
and  from  behind  it  came  the  echo,  *'Alas,  alas!" 
He  returned  to  the  hero,  and  looking  desperate 
shouted,  **She  flies  away!!"  and  the  echo  an- 
swered ^ 'Flees  awaa,"  in  broad  Scotch  drawl. 
The  cheers  from  that  mammoth  crowd  were  so 
great  that  the  Turks  must  have  heard  them. 

Many  a  night  we  had  such  a  show,  and  on  the 
cooler  days  which  came  once  in  a  while  we  man- 
aged to  get  enough  outdoor  sports  going  to  make 
life  a  pleasure.  We  were  quite  happy.  The  Turks 
were  far  from  Bagdad.  Even  Samarra,  the  *  *  rail- 


FEOM  TURKISH  TO  BRITISH       257 

head''  of  the  Bagdad  Railway  as  it  moved  up  the 
Tigris  from  Bagdad,  was  in  British  hands.  Most 
of  the  railway,  a  thousand  miles  of  it,  runs  from 
Constantinople  down  toward  Bagdad.  Then  there 
is  a  break  of  four  hundred  miles  and  the  British 
had  the  rest  of  the  line.  The  Russians  had  forced 
their  way  over  the  Persian  hills  from  Kanikin  and 
had  joined  hands  with  the  British  near  the  Per- 
sian border.  We  expected  that  with  cooler  weather 
the  combined  British-Russian  army  would  march 
on,  over  the  four  hundred  miles  of  break  in  the 
railway,  and  get  into  a  country  where  fighting  was 
good — perhaps  make  a  drive  toward  Constanti- 
nople. **0n  to  Bagdad"  had  been  a  wonderful 
success.  Why  not  *^0n  to  Constantinople''?  It 
might  have  been  but  for  the  trouble  in  Russia. 
With  the  heat  of  the  plains  and  the  trouble  in- 
side her  army  the  Russians  retired  from  Mesopo- 
tamia and  left  the  British  right  flank  unprotected. 
There  was  nothing  to  do  but  **dig  in"  and  deter- 
mine to  hold  the  position  without  the  Russians. 
It  was  rather  hard  after  such  high  hopes.  But 
still  after  the  great  victory  at  Bagdad  nobody 


258  TO  BAGDAD  WITH  THE  BRITISH 

could  be  down-hearted.     Perhaps  the  British  in 
Palestine  would  make  the  advance  instead. 

We  were  happy  in  the  trenches,  anyway.  There 
are  lots  of  things  worse  than  heat  and  Russian 
civil  wars.   And  besides,  America  was  in  the  war. 


When  British  and  Russian  forces  came  together  in 
Bagdad 

{From  a  photograph  hy  Mr.  Weir  Stewart). 


Tommies  interested  in  the  telegraphic  report,  ''America 
declares  war" 


(From  a  photograph  hy  Mr.  Leonard  Dixon). 


CHAPTER  XIV 

BEHIND  THE  SCENES— THE  Y.  M.  C.  A. 

During  the  show,  **0n  to  Bagdad/'  I  was  a 
stage  hand.  It  was  my  one  duty  to  be  on  hand  to 
help  the  actors  as  they  went  through  their  parts. 
But  in  my  position  I  was  endeavoring  to  do  one 
special  work,  that  of  the  Young  Men's  Christian 
Association. 

On  all  the  fronts  from  South  Africa  to  Flanders 
and  in  all  the  great  training  centers  the  Y.  M. 
C.  A.  has  done  its  splendid  work.  During  the 
thrilling  campaign  up  the  river  Tigris  to  Bagdad 
there  were  some  episodes  in  the  work  behind  the 
scenes  that  were  in  keeping  with  the  dramatic 
nature  of  the  war. 

Everywhere  that  the  Y.  M.  C.  A.  goes  there  is 
a  **hut.''  A  hut  may  be  almost  anything.  My 
hut  in  Bagdad  was  a  has-been  Turkish  hotel  with 
spacious  courts  for  entertainments,  meetings  and 
games.    My  hut  at  the  trenches  north  of  Bagdad, 

259 


260   TO  BAGDAD  WITH  THE  BRITISH 

in  the  desert  region,  was  a  row  of  tents  with  all 
outdoors  behind  the  British  lines  for  recreation. 
There  was  also  a  spacious  dugout,  dug  with  much 
sweat  of  brow,  for  use  on  special  occasions,  built 
more  against  the  hurricanes  and  dust  storms  that 
bore  away  the  tents,  than  against  shells.  At  hos- 
pital my  hut  was  the  whole  hospital,  for  the 
wounded  could  not  walk  around  very  much.  Each 
was  a  hut.  Each  had  the  same  requisites :  a  space, 
something  to  make  music  with,  a  place  to  write 
and  read  and  talk.    That  makes  a  hut. 

What  is  done  with  the  hut  rests  with  the  man 
in  charge.  Just  what  he  will  do  depends  mostly 
upon  what  he  does  best.  He  may  be  a  lecturer,  or 
a  musician,  or  an  athletic  director,  or  an  organ- 
izer, or  a  preacher.  But  whatever  his  forte,  his 
responsibility  for  helping  to  lift  the  lives  of  those 
around  him  by  his  influence,  is  the  prime  factor. 
Being  a  musician,  my  work  naturally  centered 
in  the  evening  concert.  When  there  was  no  call 
for  that  I  had  to  take  a  shot  at  something  else ;  at 
running  off  sports,  or  even  at  lecturing  and  speak- 
ing at  meetings. 

What  it  meant  to  be  such  a  stage  hand  in  Meso- 


THE  Y.  M.  C.  A.  261 

potamia  is  clear  from  just  one  extract  from  my 
diary  written  at  the  trenches  in  the  line  defending 
Bagdad,  in  my  dugout  into  which  I  ducked  for  a 
few  hours'  sleep  in  the  cool  of  the  night. 

Frhjay  : 

Fritz  was  over  in  his  airplane  before  breakfast.    No 

scrap.     Archie  missed  him.     Lieut.   C came  into 

mess  at  breakfast  and  asked  me  to  play  for  the  men  in 
the  surgical  tents.  He  said  they  were  ** fed  up.''  Cap- 
tain M— — ,  chaplain  of  the  —  Brigade,  came  in  to  ask 

to  borrow  the  piano  for  a  few  hours.     Lieut.  P 

sent  in  the  hockey  sticks  and  Sergeant  T ,  leader  of 

the ^shire  Eegiment  soccer  team,  brought  in  the  foot- 
ball used  in  the  League  game.  His  team  won.  Several 
men  sent  in  their  names  for  ** turns''  in  to-night's  con- 
cert. Note  from  S.  &  T.  said  no  more  firewood  till  next 
week.  Transport  delayed  by  dust  storms.  The  orderly 
in  the  library  went  sick  and  sent  word  he  could  not  tend 

to  the  books.     Captain  D sent  in  several  bags  of 

fruit  which  he  took  from  the  Arabs  who  were  selling  it 
without  licenses.  Sold  it  cheap  to  the  men.  Steve  fixed 
films  for  tomorrow's  movies.  Bobbed  into  hospital  for 
a  few  minutes  and  gave  them  a  tune.     There  were  a 

good  many  fresh  cases  in.    Saw  Padre  T and  asked 

him  to  speak  at  the  Sunday  meeting.  Got  Anderson  for 
lecture  on  his  experiences  in  France.  Took  most  of  the 
afternoon  to  complete  the  program  for  the  concert.  Had 
a  good  football  match  after  tea.  Heat  not  so  bad  today. 
fCooled  off  at  swimming  parade  before  concert.  Over  a 
thousand  at  the  show.    Pet,  the  dancer,  especially  good. 


262    TO  BAGDAD  WITH  THE  BRITISH 

A  Tommy  I  hadn't  seen  before  came  in  tonight  after  the 
show.  Said  his  best  chum  just  went  west.  He  felt  kind 
of  low.     Said  he  wanted  some  one  to  talk  to. 


Some  days  were  fuller,  some  less  full.  So  far 
as  there  was  any  routine  it  was :  morning,  inter- 
ruptions and  adjustments ;  afternoon,  errands  and 
getting  ready  for  the  evening  program;  evening, 
athletics  and  the  program. 

Morning  and  afternoon  tried  to  prove  that  run- 
ning a  Y.  M.  C.  A.  was  mostly  doing  business  with 
this  person  or  that.  Evening  and  night  tried  to 
prove  that  it  was  the  opposite,  that  the  work  was 
just  a  getting  together  of  men  with  men.  The 
night  program  I  looked  forward  to.  The  morn- 
ing program  I  went  through  with.  The  thing  that 
made  the  night  program  so  enjoyable  was  that 
it  was  never  necessary  to  go  to  any  trouble  to  get 
a  crowd.  Going  to  the  Y.  M.  C.  A.  was  a  habit. 
The  Tommies  came  seven  evenings  a  week.  They 
rarely  remembered  when  it  was  Sunday,  but  when 
they  found  hymn  books  on  the  benches  or  on  boxes 
they  stayed  just  the  same.  The  Sunday  evening 
**  singsongs, ' '  where  the  Tommies  called  out  their 
favorite  hymns  as  long  as  they  cared  to  sing  and 


THE  Y.  M.  C.  A.  263 

then  listened  to  a  short  practical  address,  were 
as  enjoyable  as  anything  else  in  the  week.  And 
they  helped  more.  They  brought  us  all  together 
in  the  best  possible  atmosphere. 

When  it  came  to  the  concerts  and  moving  pic- 
ture shows  Tommy  was  fine.  No  matter  what 
might  pass  in  his  ordinary  conversation  he  never 
acted  anything  but  a  gentleman  in  an  evening 
show.  Whether  it  was  the  influence  of  the  place 
he  was  in  or  not,  I  do  not  know.  But  I  do  know 
that  Tommy  was  always  a  gentleman.  At  one 
concert  that  I  got  up  a  Tommy  started  off  on  a 
parody  that  was  far  off-color.  It  was  not  neces- 
sary to  stop  him.  His  comrades  did  that.  They 
hissed  and  looked  daggers  at  him  till  he  sat  down 
for  shame.  They  would  be  the  same  anywhere, 
except  perhaps  in  the  wet  canteen,  and  the  Y.  M. 
C.  A.  took  the  place  of  that. 

There  was  a  surprising  amount  of  remarkable 
talent  for  concerts  among  the  British  troops.  The 
average  Tommy  leaned  toward  sentimental  songs, 
but  when  I  hit  upon  a  comic  singer  or  an  acrobat 
it  was  usually  a  find. 

I  was  going  through  a  camp  one  morning,  in 


264  TO  BAGDAD  WITH  THE  BRITISH 

search  of  talent.  As  I  walked  between  the  sleep- 
ing huts  of  the  men  I  was  asked  over  and  over 
again,  *' What's  on  at  the  Y.  M.  tonight,  mateT' 
I  inquired  about  talent  of  a  comical  nature  and 
was  directed  to  a  certain  tent.  I  stopped  in  front 
of  it.  There  were  eight  or  ten  men  inside.  *  *  Con- 
cert at  the  Y.  M.  tonight,''  I  said.  **Who  can  do 
a  turn?"  Immediately  two  looked  up.  One  said, 
''I'll  sing  'The  Sunshine  of  Your  Smile.'  "  The 
other  said,  "I  used  to  sing  the  'Eosary.'  "  I  said 
we  had  enough  sentimental  songs  and  what  I 
wanted  was  something  snappy.  "We  have  enough 
to  go  on  with  but  if  there  is  someone  that  has 
something  good  we'll  put  him  in  somewhere,"  I 
said.  The  man  I  wanted  was  a  clever  acrobat  but 
not  too  anxious  to  give  a  hand.  There  was  silence 
while  the  thought  sunk  in  that  he  was  not  needed. 
Then  the  rest  began  to  look  at  him  and  call  out, 
*'Go  on,  Lefty!"  "Do  a  turn  at  the  Y.  M.,"  or 
*'6o  on.  Lefty.    Do  the  flip-flap  for  the  boys." 

Such  were  the  diversities  of  possible  talent  and 
the  ways  and  means  of  getting  them  together,  the 
programs  always  turned  out  something  like  the 
following : 


THE  Y.  M.  C.  A.  265 

1.  Comic  song:  **I  like  a  Nice  Mince  Pie." 

Pt.  Doyle,  13th  Hussars. 

2.  Sentimental  song:  "Thora." 

Sergt.  Blackwood,  East  Lanes. 

3.  Sleight  of  hand  tricks. 

Captain  Dunlap,  Royal  Engineers. 

4.  Baritone  solo:  ** Glorious  Devon." 

Sergt.  Gilder,  Devonshires. 

5.  Comic  sketch:  **Hang  the  Telephone.'* 

Men  of  the  Australian  Wireless. 

6.  Violin  solo:  ** Hungarian  Dance.*' 

Mr.  Clark,  Y.  M.  C.  A. 

7.  Comic  song:  **The  Major.'* 

Staff  Sergeant  Bailey,  Fljdng  Corps. 

8.  Buck  and  wing  dancing  and  acrobatics. 

Cpl.  Roberts,  South  Wales  Borderers. 

9.  Scotch  ballads. 

Pt.  MacKay,  Seaforth  Highlanders. 

10.  ** Nonsense  by  the  Yard." 

Lieut.  Page,  R.A.M.C. 

11.  Song:  "Toreador." 

Sergt.  Adams,  Hantshire  Regt. 

12.  Comic  song:  ''I'm  the  Skin  of  a  Spanish  Onion." 

Pt.  Wilson,  Royal  Field  Artillery. 
God  Save  the  King. 

Such  concerts  as  those  might  be  excelled  on  stages 
in  London  or  New  York,  but  no  concerts  could 
be  more  appreciated  than  those  on  the  desolate 
plains  of  Mesopotamia.     Everybody  went,  and 


266  TO  BAGDAD  WITH  THE  BRITISH 

everybody  had  a  good  time.  At  one  of  the  con- 
certs at  Amara,  the  big  hospital  center,  there  were 
fifty  nnrses  and  twice  the  number  of  officers  at 
the  show,  as  well  as  all  the  men  that  could  get 
within  earshot. 

With  the  great  hospitals  in  Amara  went  the 
big  concentration  depots  where  the  convalescent 
and  recovered  men  were  assembled  to  be  sent  back 
to  join  their  units  in  the  trenches.  A  good  many 
had  to  spend  a  long  time  in  Amara  before  going 
back  to  their  units,  and  during  the  stay  welcomed 
anything  that  could  keep  them  interested.  Many 
wanted  things  more  serious  than  concerts.  While 
I  was  there,  there  was  a  demand  by  so  many  men 
to  learn  a  little  of  the  Arabic  language  that  we 
started  an  Arabic  class  and  one  of  the  secretaries 
took  lessons  from  an  educated  Jew  and  kept 
enough  ahead  of  the  class  in  his  studying  to  be 
able  to  teach  the  soldiers.  In  several  of  the  camps 
there  were  Bible  classes  that  met  once  a  week  un- 
der the  leadership  of  secretaries.  Among  all  ranks 
there  were  men  who  had  in  their  days  of  civil  life 
taken  a  real  interest  in  things  spiritual  and  also 
men  who  on  active  service  had  learned  certain 


THE  Y.  M.  C.  A.  267 

lessons  which  made  them  seek  power  higher  than 
that  of  man.  I  found  among  the  privates  in  our 
station  two  men  who  had  had  theological  training 
and  with  their  help  led  a  class  which  started  with 
fifteen  and  grew  steadily.  Often  wounded  men  in 
hospital,  if  they  could  leave  their  beds,  came  to  the 
tent  in  which  the  class  met. 

We  had  a  great  treat  at  one  time  when  a  man 
who  has  been  doing  wonderful  work  for  many 
years  as  a  missionary  among  the  Arabs  came  to 
Amara  to  tell  of  his  adventures  and  of  the  splen- 
did work  of  Missions  in  relieving  the  suffering 
among  the  unfortunate  people  in  Arabia.  As 
large  a  crowd  turned  out  to  hear  him  as  had 
turned  out  to  anything  of  lighter  nature.  Our 
leader,  at  the  head  of  the  Y.  M.  C.  A.  work  in 
Mesopotamia,  Mr.  Dixon,  a  Canadian,  was  quick 
to  find  such  speakers  as  he  to  send  to  the  various 
centers  along  the  rivers.  Though  the  work  at  the 
front  and  in  the  concentration  camps  behind  the 
lines  was  much  more  interesting  and  exciting  and 
healthful,  Mr.  Dixon  stayed  year  in  and  year  out 
at  the  big  base  in  Busra,  managing  the  work  of 
the  Y.  M.  C.  A.  throughout  the  force.    Once  the 


268  TO  BAGDAD  WITH  THE  BRITISH 

climate  of  Busra  and  Ms  steady  labors  so  weak- 
ened him  that  he  was  forced  to  get  away  from  the 
country,  but  he  returned  with  all  his  good  spirit 
to  carry  on  the  work,  directing  and  encouraging 
the  secretaries  in  base  camps,  in  the  hospital  cen- 
ters and  at  the  front. 

The  work  among  the  wounded  in  hospitals  was 
as  important  as  that  among  the  men  in  fighting 
trim.  '* Honest,''  said  a  fine-looking  soldier  who 
had  spent  two  long  months  in  hospital,  **if  it 
weren't  for  the  games  and  books  and  things  that 
the  Y.  M.  had,  and  the  phonographs  and  concerts, 
I  think  I'd  have  gone  crazy."  There  were  many 
who  felt  the  same  way.  In  the  Mesopotamia  hos- 
pitals the  very  desolation  of  the  country  made  it 
hard  to  enjoy  all  that  the  splendid  doctors  and 
nurses  did  for  the  men.  It  was  especially  so  in 
the  field  hospitals.  It  was  worse  than  being  laid 
up  in  France.  There  was  no  smiling  scenery  to 
look  out  upon.  There  were  no  men  and  women 
in  civilian  clothes  to  come  around  and  cheer  up 
the  wounded.  There  were  no  peasants,  no  sights, 
there  was  nothing  but  the  monotonous  life  of  war. 
The  Arab  workmen  or  the  little  Arab  girls  that 


THE  Y.  M.  C.  A.  269 

carried  on  their  heads  baskets  of  mud  to  make 
walls  for  new  buildings  only  rubbed  in  the  for- 
eignness  of  the  country.  It  was  not  ^^blighty*' 
by  any  means. 

The  thing  that  did  the  wounded  the  most  good 
was  the  moving  picture  machine,  with  films  of  all 
sorts  from  current  events  to  fairy  stories,  and 
with  scenes  laid  in  well-known  places  which 
brought  the  men  home  to  scenery  they  had  known 
long  ago  and  longed  to  see  again.  The  Tommies 
fairly  jumped  out  of  bed  when  they  saw  the 
machine  entering  the  ward.  *^Is  it  Charlie  Chap- 
lin to-night?"  they  always  asked.  And  then  a 
more  witty  chap  would  say,  **  Don't  you  know 
they've  cut  out  the  mustache?  Charlie's  out  of 
a  job."  Army  laws  had  ruled  that  no  man  might 
have  a  little  scrubby  mustache.  He  must  have  a 
real  one  or  none  at  all.  Many  a  man  had  to  shave 
off  regretfully  the  little  tuft  that  he  had  nursed 
so  lovingly  on  his  upper  lip.  There  was  always  a 
crowd  around  as  some  offending  '*  smart  dresser" 
cautiously,  heroically,  sacrificed  the  handsome 
little  **  Charlie  Chaplin"  mustache. 

The  concerts  and  meetings  were  the  things  of 


270   TO  BAGDAD  WITH  THE  BRITISH 

every  day.  But  the  work  in  Mesopotamia  was 
full  of  surprises.  There  were  opportunities  for 
helping  the  actors  in  the  most  unusual  places. 
I  assisted  an  Indian  Secretary  one  evening  in 
running  off  an  entertainment  for  Indian  troops. 
None  of  them  spoke  English.  None  of  them  was 
Christian.  But  the  Secretary's  service  was  as 
real  and  the  men  appreciated  it  as  much  as  any- 
one could.  To  advertise  the  entertainment  signs 
were  put  up  in  seven  different  languages.  After 
the  concert  a  Subidar  major,  a  Mohammedan, 
came  to  the  Indian  Secretary  and  gave  him  five 
rupees  to  help  carry  on  the  good  work  for  his 
men. 

There  was  service  for  the  Turks  as  well.  The 
night  after  the  capture  of  the  Turks  in  the  Dahra 
bend,  just  above  Kut,  it  rained  hard  and  there 
were  no  tents  for  the  Turks.  My  friend  and  part- 
ner in  the  Y.  M.  C.  A.  work,  Mr.  Stewart,  also 
now  in  aviation,  opened  up  all  the  Y.  M.  C.  A. 
tents  within  reach  for  the  use  of  the  Turkish  offi- 
cers. They  slept  on  the  benches  and  tables  and 
floor.    But  they  were  dry.    No  matter  who  they 


THE  Y.  M.  C.  A.  271 

were,  ttey  should  not  sleep  in  the  rain  if  it  could 
be  helped. 

Then  came  the  advance  to  Bagdad.  Mr.  Stew- 
art secured  a  large  barge  and  packed  it  with 
boxes  of  biscuits,  potted  meat,  canned  fruit, 
canned  milk  and  cigarettes.  He  secured  from  the 
transportation  department  permission  to  take  it 
along  and  had  it  made  fast  to  a  steamer  following 
on  the  heels  of  the  troops.  There  was  a  halt  and 
the  barge  caught  up  with  the  troops.  While  the 
men  stopped  to  get  a  little  rest  before  the  next 
stage  of  the  march  they  crowded  to  the  river 
bank  and  stripped  the  barge  of  its  contents.  They 
had  been  on  iron  ration  for  several  days  and  were 
likely  to  be  so  again  for  a  long  time.  They  were 
going  to  make  the  best  of  the  opportunity  to  feed 
up.  Each  man  was  limited  to  one  rupee  worth, 
but  it  went,  ton  after  ton,  till  the  barge  was 
empty.  Tommy  was  hungry  and  wanted  a  smoke. 
He  met  a  friend  and  was  happy. 

Another  unique  experience  was  the  turning 
over  of  the  Turkish  hotel  in  Bagdad  for  our  use 
as  the  Y.  M.  C.  A.  The  authorities  informed  us 
that  the  building  was  requisitioned  for  our  use, 


272   TO  BAGDAD  WITH  THE  BRITISH 

that  the  owner  would  be  paid  by  the  government, 
but  that  we  must  get  rid  of  him.  That  was  harder 
than  it  sounded.  The  old  neo-Turk  could  not 
understand  the  deal.  He  had  been  treated  pretty 
meanly  by  the  Turks  and  could  not  see  how  he 
could  expect  anything  different  from  the  Eng- 
lish. The  Turks  had  wanted  his  building,  so  they 
discovered  that  he  was  a  spy  and  deported  him. 
Then  he  returned  to  Bagdad  and  found  his  dear 
building  almost  ruined  by  the  Turks.  He  had  gone 
to  a  lot  of  trouble  about  it  and  had  hopes  of  using 
it  to  fleece  the  British  when  they  came  in.  Now 
it  was  gone.  He  proposed  a  plan  by  which  he 
should  give  us  so  much  a  day  if  we  would  allow 
him  to  run  the  hotel.  Everything  failed  and  he 
went  away  for  a  while.  He  came  back  and  the 
place  was  running  as  a  big  Y.  M.  He  looked 
around  and  saw  what  was  being  charged  for 
things  and  what  the  expenses  of  the  improvements 
were.  He  also  thought  of  how  much  he  would 
have  charged  for  the  same  things — about  three 
times  as  much.  Finally  he  thought  of  the  offer  he 
had  made  us.  Then  he  gave  it  up.  We  were  new 
to  him.    Never  had  he  seen  in  all  Turkey  such  a 


THE  Y.  M.  C.  A.  273 

way  of  doing  business.  He  bought  a  plot  of 
ground  on  the  main  street  and  started  up  a  Per- 
sian Garden  where  he  had  music  always  playing 
and  good  things  to  eat  at  delightfully  high  prices. 

The  Y.  M.  C.  A.  of  Bagdad  was  moving  along 
at  a  great  rate.  The  courts  were  used  for  con- 
certs, the  hotel  dining-room  for  the  food  counter 
of  the  canteen.  The  underground  part,  the  ser- 
dah,  was  the  library  and  reading-room.  We  had  a 
great  many  books  which  were  kindly  sent  in  by 
the  American  Consul.  The  Kurds  when  they 
looted  the  city  left  quantities  of  books  strewn 
about  the  streets  and  the  Consul  had  them  gath- 
ered up  for  our  library. 

That  part  of  the  work  was  easily  started.  But 
the  real  task  in  Bagdad  was  to  fit  ourselves  into 
the  native  life  of  Bagdad  so  as  to  get  the 
greatest  good  out  of  the  city.  Mr.  Stewart, 
after  considerable  hunt,  located  a  baker  who  built 
a  bake-oven  in  the  building  and  baked  quantities 
of  delicious  cakes.  Next  he  found  a  man  with 
enough  left  of  his  soda  plant  to  set  it  up  in  our 
place  and  he  too  put  out  his  wares  for  the  use  of 
Tommy  Atkins  in  the  Y.  M.  C.  A.    It  seemed  as 


274    TO  BAGDAD  WITH  THE  BRITISH 

though  we  were  making  pretty  good  use  of  Bag- 
dad's possessions.  We  could  not  have  had  any 
of  these  things  farther  down  the  river.  Bagdad 
was  so  new  to  us  we  did  not  at  first  realize  its 
possibilities.  We  found  an  Arab  carpenter  who 
came  with  an  assistant  and  lived  in  the  building, 
working  all  day  long  to  get  things  in  condition. 
We  would  not  have  trusted  an  Arab  inside  our 
tent  before  we  got  to  Bagdad.  For  workers  around 
the  building  we  had  little  Bagdaddies  who  had 
been  pressed  into  the  Turks'  service  and  had  de- 
serted when  the  Turks  left  the  city.  For  waiters 
in  the  elegant  Officers'  Tea  Room  we  had  little 
Armenian  boys,  all  dressed  in  white  suits.  Surely 
that  was  not  much  like  Mesopotamia.  Then  to 
cap  the  climax  I  set  out  to  make  something 
which  had  hitherto  been  unheard  of  for  the 
Tommies  in  Mesopotamia — ice  cream.  I  had  very 
little  idea  how  it  was  to  be  done  but  I  was  hope- 
ful. I  finally  found  an  Arab  with  enough  cows 
so  that  he  could  supply  me  with  milk  for  the  ice 
cream  if  I  could  get  the  ice.  Thanks  to  the  Sup- 
plies Department  of  the  British  Army  I  got  it. 
The  Turks  had  left  an  ice  machine  in  Bagdad 


THE  Y.  M.  C.  A.  275 

and  the  British  had  brought  up  another,  so  there 
was  plenty  of  ice  available.  I  found  a  tin  worker 
in  the  bazaar  who  made  some  little  freezers,  cyl- 
inders of  tin  inside  larger  cylinders  of  wood, 
which  an  Arab  could  turn  by  hand.  One  thing 
more  was  necessary,  something  to  eat  the  cream 
with.  There  were  not  enough  spoons  in  Bagdad 
to  supply  what  we  would  want.  So  I  experi- 
mented with  cones.  Tommies  had  never  heard  of 
ice  cream  cones,  but  that  was  no  proof  they  would 
not  like  them.  With  little  tins  in  which  the  baker 
baked  the  cakes  we  experimented  with  dough  to 
make  patty  cases.  It  was  something  of  a  prob- 
lem to  make  dough  stiff  enough  so  ice  cream 
would  not  melt  it,  yet  soft  enough  to  eat.  After 
considerable  experimenting  we  finally  arrived  at 
the  desired  combination,  and  everything  was 
ready.  I  ordered  the  Arab  to  bring  his  cows. 
He  came  at  daybreak  the  next  morning,  with  five 
or  six  cows  and  three  wives;  at  least  I  suppose 
they  were  wives.  They  walked  right  up  to  the 
front  door  and  waited.  I  leaned  over  the  roof 
railing  in  my  pajamas  and  told  them  to  start 
work.    The  wives  set  at  the  milking  and  by  the 


276   TO  BAGDAD  WITH  THE  BRITISH 

time  I  was  down  they  had  a  pail  quite  full.  The 
Arab,  having  received  orders  to  return  and  repeat 
the  performance  at  noon,  led  his  charges  away. 
Then  a  big  Arab  who  was  hired  to  turn  the  freez- 
ers took  the  milk,  boiled  it,  let  it  cool,  and  set 
about  making  the  ice  cream  with  milk,  sugar,  a 
native  vegetable  matter  that  thickened  it,  and 
jam  for  flavoring.  I  put  up  signs  ''ICE  CREAM 
CONES  AT  THE  Y.  M.  C.  A.'^  Tommy  did  not 
know  what  ice  cream  cones  were  but  he  knew 
what  ice  cream  was.  The  crowd  that  came  in  the 
first  day  was  proof  of  the  appreciation.  Each 
day  the  crowd  increased.  American  ice  cream 
cones  were  a  success  with  the  British  soldier  in 
Bagdad. 

It  was  not  long  after  this  that  I  was  with  the 
Tommies  at  the  front.  It  was  over  a  hundred  in 
the  shade  one  afternoon  when  I  heard  a  Tommy 
say  to  another,  quietly,  *'Say,  mate!  If  you  go 
sick  you  want  to  get  sent  to  Bagdad.  They've 
got  ice  cream  and  soda,  and  dirt  cheap,  in  the 
Y.  M.'^ 

Twice,  while  in  Mesopotamia,  I  had  the  thrill 
of  having  my  work  inspected  by  a  general  offi- 


THE  Y.  M.  C.  A.  277 

cer,  one  of  them  tlie  Commander  in  Chief,  General 
Maude.  General  Maude  looked  over  the  Bagdad 
Y.  M.  as  he  looked  over  his  army,  not  letting  a 
single  thing  escape  his  notice.  He  said  little  but 
seemed  pleased.  The  other  general,  General 
Caley,  with  the  idea  of  finding  out  what  the  men 
thought,  stopped  in  front  of  a  man  who  was  drink- 
ing a  mug  of  lemonade  and  asked  him  how  his 
lemonade  was.  The  Tommy  brought  up  his  hand 
to  the  side  of  his  head  quivering  like  a  leaf.  He 
spilt  most  of  his  drink  in  the  excitement  of  being 
^  spoken  to  by  the  general  as  he  blurted  out,  **OhI 
Beautiful,  sir,  beautiful.'' 

He  was  pretty  nearly  right.  It  was  beautiful  to 
have  a  cool  drink  that  kind  of  weather.  The  heat 
grew  steadily  worse.  In  July  the  orderly  in 
charge  of  the  canteen  in  one  of  the  camps  went 
crazy  with  heat  stroke  and  died;  a  helper  got 
fever  and  had  a  temperature  of  a  hundred  and 
eight,  yet  pulled  through.  In  a  machine-gun  com- 
pany next  door  eighty-seven  men  went  under 
from  the  heat  in  one  week.  One  of  our  Y.  M.  C.  A. 
secretaries  died  and  several  others  had  narrow  es- 
capes. 


278   TO  BAGDAD  WITH  THE  BRITISH 

I  do  not  know  whether  as  a  flyer  in  the  service 
of  Uncle  Sam  I  shall  be  in  such  need  as  were  the 
men  in  Mesopotamia,  but  if  so  I  pray  that  there 
may  be  a  Y.  M.  C.  A.  handy.  When  I  go  again 
to  the  front,  this  time  as  actor,  not  as  stage  hand, 
I  hope  that  I  may  receive  from  the  stage  hands 
what  I  tried  to  give  when  I  was  one. 


li 

J 

n 

i 

i 

Bazaar  Chiefs,  the  commercial  geniuses  of  Mesopotamia 


The  author,  as  gruest  of  the  Royal  Flying  Corps,  begin- 
ning early  to  learn  to  fly  for  Uncle  Sam 


CHAPTER  XV 

PERSONS  OF  THE  PLAY 

When  I  first  went  among  the  British,  America 
was  neutral  and  there  were  small  prospects  of 
her  soon  becoming  combatant.  As  an  American 
among  Englishmen,  Scotchmen,  Irishmen,  Welsh- 
men and  Australians  my  position  was  peculiar. 
The  feeling  against  America  among  the  forces 
at  the  front  was  tremendous.  The  Tommies  had 
a  little  poem  that  they  repeated  at  every  possible 
occasion.  It  had  a  verse  for  every  letter  in  the 
alphabet.  When  they  came  to  the  letter  **Y'' 
they  said: 

Y  is  for  Yankee.    He's  living  in  clover. 

He'll  come  in  this  war  when  it's  jolly  well  over. 

Even  in  April,  when  America  did  come  into 
the  war,  they  said  **0h,  well.  Now  that  weVe 
been  fighting  for  three  years  and  saving  Amer- 
ican lives  America  comes  in  and  takes  the  credit." 

279 


280    TO  BAGDAD  WITH  THE  BRITISH 

But  that  did  not  last  long.  It  was  soon  evi- 
dent tliat  if  America  had  not  come  in  when  Rus- 
sia went  out  there  would  have  been  a  most  la- 
mentable state  of  affairs,  and  during  my  last  days 
with  the  British  I  heard  nothing  but  good  spoken 
of  America.  Cockneys  were  the  most  bitter 
against  America  while  we  were  neutral.  They 
became  the  most  joyful  when  we  came  into  the 
war.  When  the  King  sent  to  our  President  a 
congratulatory  message  on  the  declaration  of  war, 
that  was  the  end  of  all  bitterness.  If  the  King 
said  it  was  good  it  was  good. 

During  the  fall  of  1916,  when  the  feeling  against 
America  was  strongest,  the  bitterness  of  the  pri- 
vates and  non-commissioned  officers  was  inde- 
scribable. The  feeling  that  they  were  giving  their 
lives  and  Americans  were  holding  on  to  theirs 
was  at  the  bottom  of  it.  They  talked  so  about  it 
that  the  sentiment  grew  to  absolute  hatred  of 
America  and  all  Americans.  Some  men  in  our 
tents  were  talking  about  America  one  evening 
and  as  they  talked  their  language  became  more 
and  more  violent.  When  they  had  gone  on  for  a 
while  I  said,  '^I'll  have  to  take  all  that  cursing  to 


PEESONS  OF  THE  PLAY  281 

myself,  for  I  am  an  American/'  They  imme- 
diately stopped  and  one  of  them  said,  **0h,  beg 
pardon,  sir.  I  didn't  know  you  were  an  Amer- 
ican/' It  might  seem  curious  that  they  knew  so 
much  about  Americans  and  yet  did  not  know  one 
when  they  saw  him — ^but  they  were  just  talking, 
just  patting  themselves  on  the  back  for  not  being 
slackers. 

The  attitude  among  thinking  Englishmen  is,  I 
think,  pretty  well  expressed  in  something  a  friend, 

Captain  D of  the  E.  A.  M.  C,  said  to  me. 

**You  know,  the  bitter  hatred  toward  you  Amer- 
icans is  a  curious  thing.  We  officers  feel  it  much 
less  strongly  than  the  privates.  My  personal 
opinion  is  that  America  is  staying  out  for  purely 
financial  reasons.  I  am  dead  against  the  inter- 
ests that  are  holding  America  out  but  I  think  that 
as  a  nation  America  is  for  us.  I  am  fearful  that 
the  Germans  in  America  are  keeping  her  out. 
That  seems  to  be  the  feeling  generally.  The 
privates  all  say  America  'daren't'  come  in.  They 
vent  their  hatred  against  all  Americans  since  they 
know  practically  none.  But  I  am  sure  there  is 
some  of  the  good  old  Anglo-Saxon  blood  in  Amer- 


282   TO  BAGDAD  WITH  THE  BRITISH 

leans,  even  today.  I  have  known  few  Americans, 
but  I  have  always  had  a  liking  for  them.  To  us 
Englishmen  there  is  always  a  sort  of  romance 
about  knowing  Americans  or  going  to  America. 
It  is  so  new.  We  feel  as  though  we  were  going 
into  a  new  kind  of  world,  yet  one  which  down 
underneath  is  just  like  ours.  You  are  such  a  lively 
lot — lots  of  go  and  all  that.  We  think  of  all 
Americans  as  a  sort  of  mixture  of  cowboy  and 
trust  magnate.  We  can't  help  liking  you  even 
if  we  are  bitter  toward  America  for  not  coming 
into  the  war.  And  say — ^why  are  you  out  here 
yourself?  Have  you  a  family  in  England?  No? 
Then  if  they  let  some  of  you  come  and  help,  why 
doesn't  the  whole  country  come  over?'' 

That  last  question  was  on  the  lips  of  everyone, 
of  every  rank.  '*  Why  are  you  helping  us  and  not 
all?"  It  did  no  harm  to  have  them  look  at  it  in 
that  way.  It  did  the  British  good  to  see  Amer- 
icans eager  to  be  of  use  to  the  Allies.  They  liked 
it,  and  I  do  not  wonder.  The  British  have  taken 
a  lot  of  the  brunt  of  the  war  ever  since  it  started 
and  it  helped  to  feel  that  the  fact  was  appreciated 
by  us,  their  brothers  across  the  water.     They 


PERSONS  OF  THE  PLAY  283 

realized  that  the  time  must  come  when  their 
brothers,  the  Americans,  would  have  to  take  the 
stand  either  for  or  against  England.  They  knew 
that  the  only  hope  for  the  world  was  for  England 
and  America  to  be  drawn  closer  and  closer  to- 
gether in  bonds  of  brotherhood,  and  they  gave 
to  us  few  Americans  with  them  in  Mesopotamia 
the  best  of  the  fine  treatment  which  English  cul- 
ture has  taught  every  well-bred  Englishman.  For 
all  they  said  about  America  they  had  a  deep  love 
for  it  way  down  in  their  hearts  and  they  knew 
that  we  had  the  same  for  England. 

Soon  after  New  Year's  Day  of  1917  a  rumor 
went  around  Mesopotamia  that  America  was  going 
to  declare  war  on  England.  I  could  see  among  the 
officers  I  knew  best  a  very  depressed  feeling. 
They  had  all  put  in  their  words  of  hatred  of 
America,  but  when  it  came  to  thoughts  of  a  real 
break,  that  was  very  different.  They  did  not 
say  much  but  they  thought.  They  thought  of  all 
the  natural  bonds  between  England  and  America, 
of  the  English  blood  that  went  to  make  up  the 
great  republic,  and  felt  as  though  they  were  go- 
ing to  have  to  make  war  on  their  brothers. 


284   TO  BAGDAD  WITH  THE  BRITISH 

At  luncli,  one  day,  the  Colonel,  onr  command- 
ant, said,  **Well,  Clark,  we'll  have  to  put  you  in 
jail,  that's  all."  We  tried  to  laugh  but  it  was 
impossible.  There  was  a  thought  in  the  minds  of 
all  at  the  table,  the  thought  of  the  frightfulness 
of  brother  fighting  against  brother.  Thank  God 
it  will  not  be !  Thank  God  that  Englishmen  and 
Americans  may  be  ** brothers  in  arms"  and 
** brothers  in  hearts"! 

One  never  appreciates  a  man  till  he  is  in  his 
shoes.  When  one  has  to  buck  the  same  prob- 
lems as  another  he  finds  wherein  the  other  was 
strong  or  weak.  Americans  have  to  be  with  Eng- 
lishmen long  enough  to  feel  the  influences  under 
which  they  live,  in  order  to  appreciate  them. 
There  is  no  better  way  of  getting  to  know  the 
English  than  to  live  with  them  on  active  service. 
They  are  themselves,  pure  and  simple,  there.  If 
one  year  with  the  English  on  active  service  was 
not  enough  to  form  a  definite  appreciation  of 
them,  it  at  least  gave  examples. 

The  man  I  admired  most  among  the  English 
was  a  captain  in  the  E.  A.  M.  C.  He  was  a  regu- 
lar army  officer,  strict,  but  kindly,  and  as  strict 


PERSONS  OF  THE  PLAY  285 

with  himself.  He  was  tall  and  straight  and  i)er- 
fectly  dressed.  He  was  graceful  and  most  courte- 
ous, no  matter  how  aggravated  he  might  be  in- 
side. When  things  went  wrong  he  was  always  the 
first  to  say,  **What  of  it?  Carry  on.''  I  never 
heard  him  speak  sharply,  but  he  was  always  in- 
sistent. He  took  a  pride  in  his  men,  they  took 
a  pride  in  him.  His  word  was  absolutely  iron- 
clad. His  punctuality  was  the  same.  I  used  to 
set  my  watch  by  his  arrivals  at  parades.  Yet  with 
all  that,  in  America  we  would  call  him  a  snob. 
He  was  distinctly  of  the  ** upper  class"  and  real- 
ized it.  To  him  the  commission  meant  he  was 
of  the  *  *  army  officer  class. ' '  But  there  were  among 
us,  officers  who  joined  after  the  war  began  who 
were  distinctly  not  of  that  class,  and  there  were 
some  who  had  worked  their  way  up  through  the 
ranks.  He  was  not  chummy  with  these,  but  he 
was  always  pleasant.  They  never  felt  out  of  place. 
If  they  were  British  officers  he  extended  them 
the  right  hand  of  fellowship.  No  matter  where 
they  might  stand  in  relation  to  court  society,  they 
were  British  officers  and  were  taken  in  without  a 
grudge.     But  there  was  still  underneath  some- 


286   TO  BAGDAD  WITH  THE  BRITISH 

thing  of  the  royal  society  feeling.  I  went  to  him 
one  day  to  ask  him  to  detail  a  certain  amount  of 
transport  to  me  for  my  nse  in  the  work  for  the 
men.  It  was  a  rather  large  request  to  make,  but 
he  was  very  pleasant  and  said  he  would  see  to 
it.  When  the  time  came  something  went  wrong 
and  I  did  not  get  the  transport.  There  had  been 
a  hitch  in  getting  the  order  through  the  Sergeant 
Major — the  usual  excuse.  A  little  later  I  wanted 
the  same  thing.  I  chanced  to  be  having  tea  with 
the  captain.  I  mentioned  the  thing  to  him  there. 
There  was  no  more  seeing  that  it  would  be  done. 
He  wrote  out  the  order  while  I  was  with  him  and 
I  got  what  I  wanted.  I  had  met  him  on  the  social 
grounds  of  the  British  officers'  mess. 

A  man  much  like  the  one  I  have  just  described, 
yet  in  many  ways  very  different,  was  an  English 
Lieutenant  in  the  Indian  army.  He  had  served 
many  years  in  India  and  had  acquired  a  good  deal 
of  the  Oriental's  outlook  on  life.  I  traveled  with 
him  for  some  time  on  an  ocean  steamer,  in  East- 
em  waters.  The  rest  of  the  passengers  on  the 
steamer  were  from  England  or  from  America. 
None  of  us  really  understood  the  Lieutenant.    He 


PERSONS  OF  THE  PLAY  287 

loved  to  sit  and  look  out  over  the  water  for  hours. 
He  was  not  in  love.  He  was  too  old  for  that.  It 
was  his  Oriental  training.  He  never  broke  into  a 
conversation  to  get  in  one  of  his  thoughts.  When 
he  was  on  deck  or  in  the  smoking  room  with  one  or 
two  others  he  would  say  something,  and  always 
something  worth  while.  He  was  never  impatient, 
never  critical ;  always  calm,  always  self-possessed. 
If  we  made  very  slow  time  it  did  not  trouble  him 
in  the  least.  He  had  acquired  that  attitude  of 
the  Oriental  which  gives  time  very  little  value. 
He  was  anxious  that  we  do  the  best  we  could  un- 
der the  circumstances,  but  nothing  more.  It  was 
what  one  did,  rather  than  the  results  that  mat- 
tered to  him.  His  conviction  was  that  of  the  East- 
erner— **You  have  your  ideas  and  experiences. 
I  have  mine.  I  shall  not  try  to  impress  mine  on 
you  and  I  expect  the  same  treatment  in  return." 
The  Lieutenant,  because  of  the  number  of  officers 
over  him  who  had  been  killed,  was  the  logical 
candidate  for  the  commission  of  major  in  his  com- 
mand, but  on  account  of  the  rules  of  the  Indian 
army  he  could  not  be  promoted  until  he  had  served 
the  required  number  of  years,  though  men  with 


288   TO  BAGDAD  WITH  THE  BRITISH 

less  experience  in  active  service  than  he  were  put 
over  him.  No  one  would  have  found  that  out  from 
him.  Little  difference  did  it  make  to  him  whether 
anyone  else  knew  anything  about  his  burdens. 
He  knew  them  and  had  to  bear  them.  Others 
could  bear  theirs.  His  silence  was  too  much  for 
one  of  the  fresh  Americans  on  board.  **  Queer 
duck"  was  his  estimate.  But,  curiously  enough, 
before  the  end  of  the  voyage,  the  Indian  officer 
had  won  his  way  to  the  heart  of  every  passenger 
aboard. 

The  man  who  was  above  everything  else  a 
fighter  was  the  Scotchman.  He  wanted  to  have  a 
thing  finished  right  away.  The  English  officer 
from  India  was  perfectly  willing  to  wait  patiently 
for  results,  so  long  as  things  were  being  done 
right.  But  not  so  the  Scotchman.  The  code  of 
the  Scotchmen  I  knew  in  Mesopotamia  seemed  to 
be:  **Love  your  friend  and  hate  your  enemy — 
and  get  him  soon. ' '  With  the  Indian  officer  there 
was  little  of  the  spirit  of  revenge.  It  was  *' Carry 
on"  with  him.  What  if  somebody  did  do  some- 
thing awfully  mean !  He  will  suffer  for  it  in  due 
time.    But  with  the  Scotchman  it  was  different. 


PEESONS  OF  THE  PLAY  289 

I  knew  a  man  of  the  famous  Black  Watch  regi- 
ment and  saw  a  great  deal  of  him.  He  impressed 
me  more  than  anyone  else  I  met  among  the 
British.  His  name  was  Jock,  and  he  came  from 
the  little  island  of  Eum  in  the  north  of  Scot- 
land. The  burden  of  his  song  was  * '  Fair  play  and 
fight."  At  the  battle  of  Mons  he  saw  a  German 
medical  officer  stop  to  fix  the  wound  of  a  Scotch- 
man. Another  Scotchman  saw  the  German,  too. 
His  blood  was  up  too  high  and  he  plunged  his 
bayonet  through  the  German.  Jock  saw  the  act 
and  quick  as  a  flash  rushed  at  his  brother  Scot 
and  gave  him  a  taste  of  his  bayonet.  The  act  had 
been  foul  play  and  Jock  would  not  see  that ;  Jock 
had  the  word  ** fight"  written  all  over  his  face. 
Nothing  would  get  past  him  without  his  giving  a 
good  fight.  In  a  friendly  soccer  game  Jock  saw 
a  man  do  some  dirty  playing  and  before  the  game 
was  over  he  had  given  the  man  such  a  thrashing 
with  his  stick  that  he  had  to  be  carried  off  the  field. 
Jock  was  champion  boxer  of  his  company  and 
cared  not  who  might  want  to  pick  a  scrap  with 
him.  He  was  more  like  a  bulldog  than  anything 
else.    He  was  always  good  and  ready  for  a  scrap. 


290  TO  BAGDAD  WITH  THE  BRITISH 

Througli  Ms  fighting  he  had  twice  been  reduced 
from  sergeant  to  private,  but  he  did  not  care.  He 
had  fought  what  his  sense  of  fairness  taught  him 
to  fight.  That  was  all  that  mattered.  A  Ser- 
geant came  in  one  day  and  borrowed  something 
from  Jock.  Jock  gave  it  to  him  with  the  char- 
acteristic Scotch  warning,  **See  that  ye  get  yon 
back  again.''  The  Sergeant,  his  dignity  much 
ruffled,  said,  ^^Who  do  you  think  you're  talking 
to?"  ^^Hoo  aboot  theeselfl"  said  Jock.  ^^ If  I'd 
been  a  mon  such  as  ye  I'd  been  more  than  a  ser- 
geant to-day."  That  was  enough  for  the  Sergeant. 
He  knew  the  man  he  was  talking  to. 

But  along  with  the  bulldog  part  of  Jock's  make- 
up went  the  most  sympathetic  and  loving  nature 
I  ever  knew.  With  those  near  his  heart  he  had 
something  of  the  nature  of  the  mother  lion.  He 
would  spring  at  anyone  who  attempted  to  dis- 
parage or  to  injure  any  of  his  friends,  and  would 
stand  up  for  them  to  the  last  minute.  He  had 
not  the  least  pride  about  his  own  goodness,  but 
when  it  came  to  that  of  a  friend  it  was  different. 
There  was  a  man  in  camp  with  us  who  had  been 
a  lay  preacher  before  the  war.    He  had  not  had 


PERSONS  OF  THE  PLAY  291 

many  educational  advantages  but  had  studied  for 
the  lay  preaching  at  night  after  work.  Jock  took 
strongly  to  him,  for  the  man  was  sincere.  The 
man's  name  was  mentioned  in  a  general  conver- 
sation one  day  and  someone  said  he  thought  the 
lay  preacher  would  slack  when  it  came  to  the 
pinch.  Jock  was  up  like  a  shot.  *^Who  said 
thatr'  he  said.  ^*I  did,"  returned  the  speaker. 
**YouVe  got  me  to  answer  for  that,"  said  Jock. 
**It's  a  lie,  and  you  take  it  back  or  step  up  to 
me."  The  thoughtless  offender  was  somewhat 
put  out.  His  evidence  was  not  good  enough  to 
give  him  courage  to  face  the  fiery  Scotchman. 
*^Well,"  he  said,  **I  don't  know  him  very  well, 
but  that's  what  somebody  said."  Jock  let  loose 
a  few  more  words  of  wisdom  to  the  offender  and 
let  him  alone  to  recuperate  from  the  blow  to  his 
self-esteem.  **I'm  far  fro'  bein'  a  Y.  M.  C.  A. 
bloke,"  said  Jock,  **but  I  ha'  a  good  eye  for  them 
as  are."  **Y.  M.  C.  A.  bloke"  was  the  Scotch- 
man's way  of  describing  a  man  who  took  his  re- 
ligion seriously.  There  were  all  sorts  in  the  army 
as  in  the  rest  of  the  world,  most  of  us  short  of 
the  mark,  others  over  it.    The  religion  of  Jock, 


292  TO  BAGDAD  WITH  THE  BRITISH 

so  near  as  I  could  make  it  out,  was  a  religion 
of  fight.  He  had  been  brought  up  to  fight 
and  had  fought  all  his  life.  His  duty  in  life  was 
to  fight,  and  the  devil  take  the  man  that  tries  foul 
play  while  Jock's  around.  There  may  be  in  this 
a  reason  for  the  way  the  Black  Watch  fought  on 
the  advance  to  and  past  Bagdad. 

Among  all  the  types  in  the  British  army,  the 
man  who  appealed  to  me  as  most  like  Americans 
was  an  Australian,  a  Lieutenant  Pilot  in  the  Royal 
Flying  Corps.  Making  a  friend  of  him  seemed 
like  making  a  friend  of  a  man  at  home.  He  used 
to  come  into  my  tent  when  we  each  had  a  minute 
and  talk  things  over.  He  loved  to  talk  about 
America.  The  free  and  open-air  life  that  he  had 
led  on  the  cattle  ranches  of  Australia  had  made 
him  lean  more  to  the  American  lively  spirit  than 
to  the  more  sedate  demeanor  of  the  English.  He 
loved  to  tell  of  his  exploits  as  a  cow  puncher  in 
Australia  and  say  he  hoped  some  day  to  spend 
some  time  on  the  ranches  of  Western  America. 
He  was  a  university  man  and  had  done  a  lot  of 
thinking  out  in  Mesopotamia.  He,  too,  was  with 
the  English  for  the  first  time.     In  Australia  he 


PERSONS  OF  THE  PLAY  293 

had  been  far  away  from  the  home  country  and 
had  always  looked  to  America  as  the  logical  place 
to  go  if  he  ever  left  Australia.  He  was  loyal  to 
England  right  down  to  the  bone,  but  he  felt  that 
with  the  great  freedom  for  self-government  that 
England  gave  Australia,  the  Australians  were  up 
against  the  same  sort  of  problems  of  government 
that  America  was.  He  felt  that  in  England  there 
was  very  much  precedent,  very  much  that  was  in- 
grained in  the  people  and  the  government,  while 
Australia  and  America  were  only  beginning  to 
make  precedents,  only  beginning  to  put  customs 
into  the  grain  of  the  people.  Only  he  felt  that 
America  had  done  so  much  more  than  Australia. 
He  looked  at  America  as  a  sort  of  big  brother. 
He  would  surely  get  there  some  day.  Just  for 
the  present  his  was  to  do  his  bit,  probably  his  all 
for  the  mother  country  to  whose  call  Australia 
was  responding  so  splendidly. 

I  wish  I  could  go  on  to  tell  of  more  and  more 
friends,  more  and  more  different  kinds  of  men 
with  whom  I  came  into  intimate  contact  in  Meso- 
potamia: "Welshmen  with  their  beautiful  voices 
and  pleasant  ways  of  pronouncing  the  English  Ian- 


294  TO  BAGDAD  WITH  THE  BRITISH 

guage ;  the  men  from  the  different  parts  of  Eng- 
land, Yorkshire,  Devonshire,  Dorsetshire,  Hant- 
shire,  Lancashire,  Leicestershire;  and  all  the 
other  sections  represented,  each  with  their  little 
characteristics,  each  with  their  attractions.  But 
there  must  be  an  end. 

It  was  a  day  fuU  of  mixed  feelings  when  I 
boarded  a  transport  at  Busra,  bound  for  Bom- 
bay, from  where  I  was  to  sail  for  America.  I 
hated  to  leave  the  land  where  I  had  been  so  de- 
lightfully busy  for  a  year,  and  hated  to  leave  all 
the  good  friends  that  I  had  made  among  the  Brit- 
ish. But  I  was  anxious  to  get  home  and  see 
whether  Uncle  Sam  could  find  a  use  for  me  in  his 
new  army. 

We  lay  at  the  bank  on  the  big  B.  I.  steamer, 
Edavana,  till  the  sun  sank  to  rest.  The  white 
clouds  that  hovered  just  above  the  horizon  turned 
with  the  rays  of  the  setting  sun,  first  a  tender 
pink,  then  a  rich  scarlet  and  finally  gold  with 
glistening,  silvering  edges.  The  blue  sky  above 
became  paler  and  paler.  Finally  the  brilliancy 
of  the  clouds  died  away  and  a  beautiful  sky  with 
a  thin  crescent  moon  in  its  center  was  left  over 


PEESONS  OF  THE  PLAY  295 

the  tops  of  the  palms.    Farewell  to  the  beauties 
of  Mesopotamia. 

Next  morning  we  were  far  from  Busra,  steam- 
ing full  speed  to  Bombay.  On  deck  I  met  an  of- 
ficer I  had  known  in  Bagdad.  ** Hello/'  he  said. 
' '  Going  on  leave  T ' ' '  No, ' '  I  said.  * '  Farther  than 
that.  Going  home  to  America  to  get  into  the 
fight.'' 


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